Mairen
by Fiannalyn also Fianna
Summary: the elves struggle with their fate after the war of the ring.. and who will continue their leadership among men... or follow the elves and leave middle earth to it fate...
1. Bait

Title & Chapter Number: Mairen - Chapter One Author: Fianna (Barrylyn@voyager.net) Fandom: Haldir/ LOTR Disclaimer: These characters have been created by JRR Tolkien and I use them without permission but only for the express intent of expanding on a universe I have come to cherish, and only to share with fellow fans his world. No monetary gains will be taken by the following stories. Warnings: Rated R/ warning. Helm's Deep episodes- but Haldir LIVES! Betas: Julie / Jen and Char especially for horse info. thank YOU!! Cast: Haldir and OC/ all Lorien elves, Rohirrim . Timeline: AU/ during and after the time of Helms Deep Summary: An off shoot story regarding Haldir and the Rhohirran people, tie in to movie and books.Haldir meets a young Rohirrim warrior who saves his life. twice. Notes: The story runs along the lines brought to us by both Tolkien and Peter Jackson.. I have borrowed on events from the book as well as the alternate version told by Peter. hopefully it will all mesh as I hope.Thank you to all who read my stories. it inspires me to write more. and more.. and more.  
  
MAIREN  
  
Chapter One: Bait  
  
The plains of Rohan stretched out across the southern reaches of Middle Earth. Rolling hills of rocky grass-covered knolls joined mountains of sheer granite reaching upward toward the heavens. It was a place of hardness and strength, a land held for centuries by the people of Rohan. Brave, stalwart, and loyal to their king, these riders of the Riddermark were born horsemen, taking to the saddle at an age when most children still played at their mother's side. With a fierceness respected throughout Arda, they guarded the borders of their lands from the pervasive darkness that crept relentlessly toward them.  
  
Few dared to breach these borders, and those who did traversed the plains with care. The Rohirrim riders could overcome the fiercest band of Orcs, decimating them with lances thrown with a deadly accuracy or crushing them beneath hooves trained to kill. But on this day, there were two sets of outsiders, each in a contest for survival with each other.  
  
The first group to cross into the plain traveled quickly and on foot, leather armor creaking with the clumsy but swift movement of creatures created from shadows. They were Orcs, bearing away south from the devastation they had wrought, their trail of destruction and death reaching far behind them to the north. Uncaring, they ran in good humor, ignoring the inherent threat that came with crossing the Rohan border. They had a meeting ahead, with more of their kind, drawing the unsuspecting followers into a trap that was set to destroy. Bait and hook.  
  
The second group, the Elves following the trail of the Orcs, were well aware that they might be heading into an ambush. They ran smoothly, their long legs eating the distance, running as the Orcs did, without rest. Anger and hatred fueled their pace, emotions that were controlled, but vivid in their minds. The despised shadow creatures had waylaid a group of Lórien elves returning from a visit to Rivendell, killing all five in the troupe. The Orcs had then cut through the border patrol, leaving only ashes in their wake to tell the tale of horror.  
  
But the traces left by the Orcs had been read by the elves sifting through the dust and debris, and they had risen, filled with rage and the desire for vengeance. The wardens of the Golden Wood had set out, intent on tracking their quarry, but the one who led the five elves had one concern foremost in his mind.  
  
Were they following or being led? And if they were being led, how to defeat the enemy?  
  
The concern troubled Haldir of Lórien as he ran, leading his wardens deep into the lands of the Riders of the Mark. That they could defend themselves he was confident, if met squarely in battle. Six elves could defeat a multitude of Orcs, but it was the knowledge that the Orcs knew this land better than he did that caused him unease. Orcs were stupid creatures, but these were led by one who did not travel among them. Whoever he was, his leadership was cunning, and it was this leader who made Haldir continuously scan the land around him. Was he leading his band of elves into certain death?  
  
Still, this menace to Lothlórien's borders must be dealt with, and swiftly. How many more of his people would be lost to the shadow? The Orcs must be stopped. They had no choice.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen heard the faint sounds of battle in the distance, and sharply pulled back the head of her horse, an unusual action for a Rohirrim warrior. Her years of horse-handling notwithstanding, the suddenness of the action surprised her horse. intent as she was on following the other thirty horses ahead of her.  
  
She spun Epona around abruptly; as rear guard, Mairen knew she must investigate quickly. She whistled to alert the band of horsemen ahead of her of her delay, then tightened her knees around the horse and urged Epona forward, riding swiftly back along the ridge line, keeping just below the top of the hill. Pulling up, she slid off the horse to see what was happening, carefully hiding behind a large outcropping of rock.  
  
It had been the sound of arrows she had heard, that peculiar whistle they made as they split the air, her keen sense of hearing somehow telling her that something about this battle was not right. She now knew why. Below her in the rocky chasm was a lone elf, barely able to stand among the boulders. His bow lay a few feet from him, amid the gore-stained bodies of at least thirty Orcs. Wounded gravely, he was still desperately fighting, his blade slowing from what must once have been a deadly swing. How he was still alive and able to fight was beyond her. The thought mattered not as she remounted Epona and thundered back along the ridge, her piercing whistle bringing the Rohirrim cavalry back around in her direction. Willem, her brother, would follow her lead and ask questions later.  
  
They swept over the ridge, horses leaping the drop easily, taking out Orcs as the hooves hit the rocky ground in a bone-crushing shudder only to leap away again. Orcs were carrion and any chance to destroy them was welcome. Mairen pulled her lance from its holder, spinning the long wooden staff over her head and tucking it under her arm. This time she would not throw it but held it ready, advancing on the Orc who had just leaped toward the elf.  
  
The elf staggered and fell back onto the large rock behind him, his sword raised in defense. The Orc above him grinned in anticipation of his killing blow, only to find himself impaled on the long Rohirrim lance an instant later. The Orc flew back from the force of the blow, landing several yards away, his eyes already glazed with death.  
  
Mairen leaped from her horse, pulling the long sword attached to her saddle free, and crouched next to the elf. Her defense was unnecessary as the horseman were easily decimating the remaining Orcs, annihilating the hated creatures under lance and hoof. Aware of his deliverance, the elf had allowed himself to collapse, sprawled on the hard stone, his wounds bleeding profusely.  
  
She knelt next to him, her hands swiftly running over his injuries, knowing there was not much she could do. She looked up when Willem rode over.  
  
"Dead?" he asked.  
  
"Nay, alive but barely."  
  
Dismounting quickly, Willem felt for the elf's pulse and shook his head in amazement. "I do not know how he can be alive!" He glanced around at the riders milling about. "Mairen, we have no time to take him with us, our journey is delayed already. He is too weak to be taken on horseback at the speed we must travel." He reached into the pack on his horse and pulled out a leather bag from which he drew a length of cloth. He wrapped it tightly around the elf's thigh, and the cloth turned quickly red, but Mairen thought the flow of blood seemed to slow.  
  
She frowned, knowing they could not leave him here to die. A warrior was never left to die alone. Elf or no, they needed to get him somewhere where he could be given proper aid. Worried, she glanced at her brother and saw that his face was grim as he finished tightening the bandage on the elf's leg.  
  
"His injuries are appalling," he said. "I do not know if we can get him help in time. We have no skills to heal him. But perhaps an elf is stronger than we know and can survive such wounds. We must take him back to his people."  
  
Mairen nodded in agreement, her eyes fixed on the elf's face.  
  
"You are the best one to return him, Mairen." Willem said gruffly. "I dare not send another, we are already too few. I would not lose you if I knew another way. The road will be dangerous."  
  
Looking at the elf, Mairen could see that his clothing, even amid the blood and gore, was a deep gray green, almost brown against the rock. A long multi-hued green cloak lay twisted behind him, but it was the fan of long silver-blond hair that told her where she must go.  
  
"Lothlórien?"  
  
Willem scowled, for it would send her back the way they had just come. "Aye, a full days' ride." He gripped her shoulder tightly, his eyes narrowing with his frustration and concern. "You will have to ride slowly."  
  
Mairen nodded again and rose, whistling for her horse. The roan shook her head, trotting quickly to the side of the rock, and Mairen mounted, bracing her knees against Epona's flanks. Willem lifted the elf, laying him gently on her lap, facedown across her saddle. Her thighs would cushion him somewhat from the saddle, but she knew if he had been awake the ride would have been very uncomfortable. Thank the Valar he was not.  
  
"I will meet you as soon as I am able." She gripped the reins, placing a hand on the elf's back more to reassure herself that he was alive than to steady him.  
  
Willem gathered the elf's sword and quiver and tied them onto the back of her horse's saddle. "You will not reach Edoras alone. Follow the river and we will meet you. If I do not see you in a week, I will assume you are dead." The seriousness of his words were softened by the twinkle in his eyes.  
  
Mairen gripped Willem's shoulder, pulling her brother closer as his blue eyes laughed into hers. "Not amusing, do not make light of this. I will meet as soon as I am able. I would not go if I had any choice."  
  
Willem kissed her hand. "I know, Mairen. Ride carefully and quickly, and be cautious of the elves. I think you will gain entry easily enough, but do not linger. Just leave him. They will find him soon enough." Willem pulled her down so he whisper in her ear, "Be careful, their magic is powerful."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen hummed an old march tune beneath her breath, her eyes scanning the horizon. Epona picked her way carefully through the maze of rocks, seeming to understand Mairen's concerns regarding the silver-haired elf draped over her lap. He remained motionless, although a few times she had felt him tense, then relax. At least she knew he still lived.  
  
They plodded on, leaving the rocky hills far behind. She rested her hand on the elf's back, feeling the strength in the muscles below her palm. "I am sorry, elf, for your uncomfortable ride, but I fear I have not the strength to hold you seated." She glanced down at him, knowing in this state he was unlikely to hear her. Still, she knew little about elves and what they could or could not do.  
  
She scratched her chin beneath her helm, knowing she would need to reach Lothlórien before nightfall. Alone, on horseback, with an injured elf, she'd be nothing but Orc bait as soon as darkness fell. The thought sent a chill racing down her spine, causing her to finger the sword at her knee, lashed to the saddle. Even with lance and sword, and the deadly hooves of her horse, she would be an easy target. She'd need all the blessings of the Valar to get him there in one piece. But what then? Did she turn and leave? It would be close to dusk when she arrived. Well, she would cross that bridge when she reached it.  
  
She halted alongside a stream, easing out from under the elf to dismount. She checked what she could of his injuries, and found that the thigh wound still bled. She pulled Epona into the stream, the water rushing in a swift but not dangerous current, swirling around the legs of the tall roan. She waded around the horse to where the elf lay, and gently lifted his head.  
  
His face was pale, although elves were pale anyway, but she was sure he was much paler than normal. His long lashes lay against a cheek caked with blood. She ran her fingers over his head, sliding them into his hair to investigate the large gash in his scalp. She ought to stitch that closed, and probably should have done it sooner.  
  
Mairen sighed, aware she didn't have much time to spare, but knowing also that she had no choice. She removed the helm from her head, her sandy brown hair falling well past her shoulders. Tying the helm to her saddle, she reached into her pack and pulled out her sewing kit. Turning back to the elf, she parted his hair again, gently tucking the long blond strands into the back of his tunic. She hated sewing and this was the worst kind.  
  
Several long minutes later she tucked away her kit. Her hands were shaking, which was odd. As much as she hated sewing bloody wounds, she'd never before had a reaction like this. Pushing the thought away, she used her helm to pour a little water over his head and wash the blood from his hair. Next, she used a piece of cloth to wipe away the dried blood on his face, studying his features while she did so.  
  
He was handsome as all elves were handsome, but this one had a strength beneath the elegant features. Absently, she smoothed her fingers over his silky hair. What color were his eyes, she wondered silently. Who was he? And why, blessed Valar, had he been out on the plain alone?  
  
She shook her head. The shadows were beginning to lengthen, the sun edging toward the horizon, and she still had several hours to ride. Plunking the wet helm back on her head, she remounted, easing her legs under the elf once more. Again, she began to hum, her eyes scanning the low plains before her for signs of danger.  
  
*~*  
  
It was as much the agonizing pounding in his head as the throbbing pain sweeping through his body that told Haldir he was still alive. Perhaps death would have been kinder. He wanted to groan, but the pressure of lying on his stomach and the very effort itself was beyond him. He couldn't move. Pain wracked his body. Yet he felt movement, and willed himself to focus on his surroundings. He was being carried, most uncomfortably, on a horse. He wanted to open his eyes, but the blinding pain in his head suggested it would not be wise. Where was he? And where were they taking him? They were not Orcs, or he'd be dead.  
  
Hazily, he sorted through his memory of that day, but his mind was blank, the memories just fuzzy, indistinct images. He could not remember. What had wakened him? He pushed aside the pain, the throbbing aches insistently making themselves known, and realized it was the humming. Soft humming, above him. He forced open his eyes, then shut them again quickly. The movement of the horse and the ground passing below him added waves of dizziness to the pain in his head. He was lying on his stomach, and he realized that someone rode with him. Ah, the humming. He felt a hand settle over his back, light touches stroking, sending an uncontrollable shiver through him. The humming stopped, and he felt legs tense beneath him.  
  
"Are you awake, handsome elf?"  
  
Haldir couldn't summon the energy to groan, much less answer. The voice was soft, lilting, Rohirrim? He remembered now. They had come leaping over the rim of the canyon, slaying the Orcs that had ambushed him. He should have been dead. He felt the fingers run up his shoulder, lifting the hair that shielded his face.  
  
"Awake? Perhaps. But too weak to do much more than listen." The soft humming resumed for a moment, and his hair fell back across his cheek.  
  
He felt the thighs tense, and the horse moved accordingly. Definitely Rohirrim. But the voice was too soft to be a male. A female? Surprise echoed amid the pain. He wanted to move, but could only lie there.  
  
"I had to stitch up your head," she said. "I dared not risk leaving an open wound any longer. We should reach your wood in another hour. I can see the river now."  
  
The pain hammered his head. He remembered the Orc's swing now. He'd barely been able to lift his sword, but had somehow managed to deflect the blow. He felt darkness creeping over his senses, and welcomed the oblivion. Wood? She was taking him home? He relaxed, allowing the darkness to fall, filled with a sense of relief.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen sighed her own relief when she felt him relax again. The air had grown chill as the sun slipped low along the horizon; another hour and it would be dusk. She hoped the elves of the Golden Wood watched closely, for she didn't care to ride deep into their forest. The closeness of the woods made her nervous; she would much rather ride the open plains where she had a better chance of seeing any enemy that lurked. She rode in silence, then began to hum again, this time to settle her nerves. The Wood had risen before her, the towering trees distant, but still an intimidating presence.  
  
She had never liked traveling along the border of the wood, although they'd done so many times. She knew they were watched, and the hidden gazes of the elves unnerved her. She felt them, the elves, somehow when she was near, and it was often with an unsteady hand that she guided her horse past the wood. It irked her to know it, and she took great pains to disguise her uneasiness before the other riders. She had fought hard to gain a position in Willem's guard unit. Théoden had not liked the idea, but her skills equaled many of the men, and the intercession of his niece Eowyn had swayed his decision. But Mairen had had to earn the respect of the others. It was a hard won rank.  
  
She flexed her thighs, turning the horse to cross the shallows of the river. Epona's hooves splashed quietly as she carefully picked her way across the stream. The roan's swaying gait made the elf's hair swing back and forth, catching her eye.  
  
Mairen leaned down. "We are almost there, handsome elf. Hold on for a while longer." Was he aware at all? She didn't think so.  
  
She straightened and pulled her sword from its sheath, laying the long blade across the elf's broad back. Then she released the lance from its catch and gripped it firmly, using her knees to guide the horse. She was not taking any chances.  
  
The setting sun's rays glanced off the yellow-green trees of the forest. Green and gold flickered in the mild breeze, leaves rustling quietly as she entered the darkness of the wood. It took a moment for her to adjust to the dimmer light, her nerves clamoring, aware of the unseen danger. How far must she ride? Mairen flexed her knees, gripping Epona tighter, her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on her lance. She did not go far.  
  
The arrows flew swiftly, from where she could not be certain, but they landed several feet in front of her horse and blocked their path. She halted, holding the lance tightly while she looked around. Where were they? She lifted her chin, refusing to show her unease, but her toes curled inside her boots. Why was she so nervous? She shoved the thought away, concentrating on the solidity of the lance in her hand even though she knew the weapon would do no good. If the elves wanted her dead, she'd have been dead a long time ago.  
  
Mairen waited.  
  
The elves appeared. One moment shadows, the next, a dozen creatures clad in grey, with gleaming silvery hair. Dangerous adversaries, silent but intent, with their bows nocked and aimed straight at her. Mairen swallowed. Damn. They did not move closer, only stood watching her with eyes that glittered with hostility. Very well, now what? She waited silently for one of them to speak.  
  
"How do you come to have a Lórien elf? Is he dead?"  
  
The voice was smooth, almost crystalline in quality. And it came from behind her. She turned her head to see the elf. Nay, elves. More stood at the rear, their arrows also nocked. She was in their domain.  
  
Mairen shook her head. "Nay, not dead. Yet," she added with emphasis. Epona snorted in seeming agreement.  
  
The elf frowned, his long elegant brows dropping over bright blue eyes. Icy, fearless eyes that held her captive. She tried to control the shiver that ran along her spine.  
  
"He is severely injured," she said. "Ambushed by Orcs. Do you want him? Or shall we spar for another hour while he withers away? The ride has been long and difficult for him."  
  
The elf's gaze moved beyond her shoulder to the elves in front of her. She faced forward again to see another elf had come forward. He spoke to the one behind her, in their language, his tone sharp. She glanced from one elf to the other, noticing the similarities in their movements and expression. They had to be brothers.  
  
The elf in front strode up to Epona, and grasped of the roan's bridle. Mairen stared in astonishment, for against all training the horse accepted the elf's hold.  
  
The elf from behind her appeared at her side. "I will take him."  
  
Mairen looked down into the icy blue eyes. Did she see a hint of worry in the blue depths? She gripped the lance, suddenly unwilling to give up her burden. But that was why she had come and she was being foolish. The elf needed his own kind, and the healing they could offer him.  
  
Yielding to the inevitable, she spun the lance over her head, imbedding it into the ground beside the elf. He did not flinch, but the elves surrounding her did. Wooden bows creaked as tension was applied. She was glad they did not have her jittery fingers. She felt the stares drill into her back. Careful, do not be unwise, she told herself. Mairen untied the helm, lifting it off her head. And smiled as the icy elf's eyebrow rose slowly.  
  
She sheathed her sword, if a bit reluctantly, earning her another raised brow, this time from the one holding Epona's bridle. She glared at the horse when the elf spoke softly to the animal, which nickered softly in answer. What magic did these elves have to tame a Rohirrim war horse, trained to kill and only obey one master?  
  
The injured elf was drawn from her lap by two elves who laid him with great gentleness upon the ground. The one who spoke her tongue looked up at her with narrowed eyes. "You tended him?"  
  
Mairen settled in her saddle, her legs feeling suddenly empty. "Aye. The wound on his head was great. I dared not leave it, so when I was able, I stitched it closed." She shifted her gaze to the elf holding her horse, then back to the injured elf on the ground. Something about them tickled a memory in the back of her mind, but what was it? She ignored the sensation, noting that the injured elf seemed to be someone important. They elves spoke quietly, but rapidly, and she did not miss the uneasy looks that passed between them.  
  
The elf who bent over the injured one stood to face her. "We need your horse. The way to the city is long, and we need to get him to the Lady of the Wood as quickly as possible. You will have to come with us."  
  
"I cannot stay." Mairen pulled against the reins of her roan, but the elf holding Epona only sent her an inscrutable look. "I have brought him as far as I will," she protested.  
  
Anger flitted across the elf's face. "You have no choice. Night is falling. You cannot travel alone in the darkness, even we dare not. You have come this far, another short distance will make no difference to you. He is weak and will die otherwise."  
  
Mairen's lips tightened with foreboding. She didn't care to stay here any longer than necessary. Willem's words echoed in her head, but on the other hand she had brought the wounded elf this far; she couldn't let him die now. Still, she didn't have to like it.  
  
The elf turned back toward the others, motioning for them to lift the injured elf. He glanced back at Mairen. "It will be better for him to stay upright. You must allow one of us to ride with him."  
  
Mairen shook her head. "Epona will not allow anyone else to ride her."  
  
The elf glanced at the one holding Epona's bridle. "Rúmil can ride her. He has already won your horse's confidence."  
  
Mairen eyed the elf, but could not refute his words, for indeed Epona was nuzzling Rúmil quite fondly. "I see you have some sway over my animal," she said warily. "What magic do you possess to control her? She used to be trained quite well."  
  
Rúmil patted the horse gently, and moved to stand beside Mairen. "I have a way with such beasts. We speak the same language. She is still yours, but understands our needs. She will allow it."  
  
Epona seemed to comprehend and echoed his words with a fierce nod of her head. Giving in, Mairen dismounted and stepped back to allow the elf to leap gracefully onto the roan's back. The elves slid the injured elf in front of him, and Rúmil clasped him firmly around the waist, holding him against his chest.  
  
"He will ride swiftly and meet us at the city."  
  
The elf called Rúmil urged Epona forward, and they sprang away, horse and elves as one, into the long shadows of the forest. 


	2. Awakening

*** Please note: If readers are searching for the story Elanor's Revenge, written by Julie and I, it has been deleted by the admin for some ratings violation. We do not agree, but ff.net seems to dump stories without truly investigating the complaint. I can't say how long any of our stories will remain on this site, but they will continue to be found at Galadhrim.net as well as many other smaller fic sites. Please email me if you would like a list.  
  
Sincerely, and elf hugs to all. Fianna  
  
Chapter Two:  
Awakening  
  
They reached the city in the middle of the night, and although Mairen was impressed by the elves' speed, she was unused to walking such distances. She would pay for the night's walk with the blisters that even now throbbed on her feet. Yet their arrival in the city of Caras Galadhon banished such thoughts. It seemed to wait for her, glittering among the forest branches, drawing her toward it with wide eyes, but she had little time to gaze around her.  
  
As soon as they neared the high earthen wall surrounding the city, the elves split apart, disappearing quickly into the trees. Mairen glanced nervously about as they passed through the ornately carved wooden gates, glistening in the dim light. Above, two tall elven sentinels watched them closely, but she tried to ignore them, sensing their coldness and feeling more vulnerable than she had in many years. The small knife in her boot would not offer much in the way of defense, and she only hoped she would not need such weapons among the elves.  
  
Her nerves on edge, she thrust her hands behind her back and followed the blue-eyed elf called Orophin into the depths of the city. Hundreds of tiny lights twinkled above her, but Mairen's attention was drawn to the elf- lady who was gliding silently down a set of nearby steps in her direction. For a moment, Mairen was struck blind and dumb, assailed by a brief, overwhelming sensation that she'd been in this spot, experienced this instant before, perhaps in some strange dream. Forcing away these eerie thoughts, she clenched her fists and straightened her posture in preparation for a meeting with this personage.  
  
Whoever this elf was, she was quite beautiful. She had long, silver- blond hair that cascaded down her back, and her white dress glittered in the flickering light of the lanterns that were suspended along the path. Her expression was not unfriendly, yet she appeared aloof, even distant as she drew near. Beside her, Mairen felt the male elf stiffen then bow, touching his brow in respect.  
  
"Rúmil arrived in time?" he asked, speaking so that Mairen understood him.  
  
The Lady reached out to touch his shoulder. "Aye, Orophin. We have taken Haldir to his talan and he is being cared for." She turned to Mairen. "I wished to be among the first to greet our guest."  
  
As the lady gazed at Mairen, she seemed to pause for a moment, the sapphire blue eyes widening for a brief second before she nodded regally. Belatedly, Mairen realized that this was Lothlórien's Lady of Light, of whom she had heard stories. She stared back, unable to drag her gaze from the tall she-elf. She knew not why, but she was frozen with the overwhelming feeling that the deepest secrets of her soul lay open to this stunning elf. Mairen stood still, unable to breathe while the wise blue eyes held hers. Indeed, they seemed to envelope her, wrapping around her thoughts, delving deep into her mind.  
  
The small bits of knowledge that Mairen had learned about the elves seemed miniscule in comparison to the questions crowding her mind, and the lady gazed at her for several long moments in silence. Elves were immortal, Mairen knew. How long had the Lady of Light lived? Mairen wondered. She thought once more of the stories she had heard. How unfair those rumors of witchcraft now seemed. Trying not to stare back too openly, Mairen bowed, shaken by the probing blue eyes and the intensity of that gaze. For some reason she felt surprise; she had not expected the Lady to look so youthful . . . or so beautiful.  
  
"Your tender care of our guardian helped save his life. Haldir owes you a great debt." The Lady's words slid over Mairen like honey, coating her in their steely softness. The blue eyes pierced her own, and Mairen touched a hand to her forehead in respect.  
  
"I did what I could, my lady. But I must return to my guard."  
  
Galadriel smiled, but Mairen still felt a shiver travel up her spine. "My March Warden would approve of your loyalty to your people and your duty. You shall join them, but not yet. Be at ease, Mairen of Rohan. Your presence here is welcomed joyfully, for you have brought home one who we would have sorely missed, our own dear Captain and March Warden, Haldir."  
  
Mairen's eyes widened, finally realizing what had been tickling the back of her mind earlier. The March Warden? She'd brought back their captain of the Guard! She stared at the Lady with a dismay she did not understand. "He will be well?" She couldn't stop the question from slipping out.  
  
Galadriel smiled again, her lips curving up at the corners, creasing the corners of her eyes. It was a genuine smile of amusement. "Haldir will be well, but he needs much rest. I must go to him now, and complete what healing we have started. He will want to know about you."  
  
Mairen flushed, remembering all too well Willem's words, which continued to hound her thoughts. "I am needed elsewhere. I fear to leave my guard for long." She knew intuitively her arguments were futile. The lady's expression had grown slightly colder. Haughty even. Had Mairen insulted her? She bit her lip.  
  
"Your guard will be well, for your brother is a strong leader. I will send him word you are safe and that I require your presence for a short while."  
  
She was not given an opportunity to argue, for the lady turned and began to ascend a wide staircase, leaving Mairen behind. Mairen clasped her hands behind her back to stop her trembling fingers. Friendly or not, she had not expected to be detained and did not like it.  
  
We mean you no harm, Mairen.  
  
Mairen flinched as the thought rang through her mind, for she somehow knew it came from the Lady. She bowed her head to hide the confusion that must surely be written upon her face.  
  
She felt a hand touch her elbow and turned to find Orophin waiting. He drew her gently forward, and they followed the Lady of Light high into the trees of Caras Galadhon.  
  
*~*  
They rose quickly, following the spiraling staircases around the huge, massive trees so large in circumference that ten men could not have stretched their arms around the trunks. The wood of the stair glittered iridescently from the tiny flickering lamps that hung overhead. The shadows were deep, hiding the ground below her as she walked beside Orophin. Small, ornately carved rooms nestled among the huge branches, the buildings an extension of the tree that embraced them. Higher and higher they climbed, and as they did, more elves came forward to lean over balusters and railings, concern etched on their faces as Galadriel passed, their curious glances settling on Mairen.  
  
They reached a fair-sized house tucked back against the tree trunk, and entered. The first room was a living area, with small cushioned benches beneath tall open windows covered with silken draped panels drawn open to allow the light breeze to whisper into the room. To the left was a small table and chair on which a metal lantern glowed softly. Tall lamp stands stood unlit in the corners, the metal wrought into shapes mimicking the flora she'd seen in the forest. A few more smaller cushioned chairs were arranged around the room, and on the far wall were tall cabinets, one of which held an assortment of books, the others, various trinkets and artifacts she recognized from several different cultures. She glanced at the books, assuming they probably were all in Elvish, before Orophin drew her into the next room.  
  
Inside, she found Haldir lying unconscious on the bed, surrounded by several elves who were whispering fiercely. Galadriel moved to the side of the bed, leaning over him.  
  
Orophin released Mairen's elbow, but did not step away. Did he stand as her guard? The elves hovered around the bed, and Mairen could see they had cut away portions of Haldir's tunic, and had cleaned many of his wounds. Mairen dragged her eyes from the injured elf to look around the room. This room was sparse compared to the first; only the bed and a large cupboard took up space, one full wall opening onto a small terrace. Banners hung over the remaining walls, soft and silky, they caught the light from the candles lit around the room, and the slight breeze, ruffling softly amid the whispered murmurs of the elves around the bed.  
  
"The head wound concerns her the most," Orophin murmured, glancing down at Mairen. "They have placed him in a healing trance. Would that one of us were there when he first fell. He would not then have fared so badly."  
  
Mairen shifted slightly, easing her left foot off the floor to gain some respite from her own pain. "You could have healed him then?" she asked in amazement.  
  
Orophin smiled slightly. "For the most part. For all his stubbornness, Haldir heals quickly. Many are the times we have had to heal him, for he is fearless and willful, always placing himself in the front, always protecting those who have fallen."  
  
Mairen glanced at the tall elf, sensing his pride in his brother. "I wish that were possible for all of us. It is a true gift from the Valar to heal so rapidly." She looked away, thinking for a moment of her mother, dead long ago. Would they have been able to save her? She shook off the thought as the door opened, and Orophin pulled her back a step when a new, very impressive-looking elf entered the room.  
  
"That is Lord Celeborn," Orophin whispered.  
  
Mairen studied the regal newcomer. He was very tall, with the same silvery blond hair she'd seen on others. In addition, he emanated an aura of calm and stillness that was curiously soothing. She bowed her head in greeting, and then looked up to meet his eyes, which were as fathomless and ancient as the Lady's, yet they also held a hardness. Instinctively, she knew his warrior's eyes picked up details most would never see, and she fought an urge to squirm as he stared back at her for several long moments before he moved toward Haldir. What was it about her that gave them such pause, she wondered as Celeborn slid his hand into Haldir's hair and examined his scalp.  
  
He glanced at her again, his firm lips curving in a slight smile. "You sewing skills are impeccable." He probed the gash carefully, but did nothing more except to speak quietly with Galadriel.  
  
Orophin folded his arms over his chest as he listened to the soft conversation near the bed. "They cannot heal him fully for he has lost too much blood. The head wound will have to wait until tomorrow." He paused, catching Mairen as she shifted her feet once again. Mairen caught the look that passed between Orophin and Lord Celeborn, and found herself being pulled gently out of the room.  
  
"Sit here, I will have some food brought. Rest for a while." Orophin bowed, and left the room.  
  
She could hear the soft murmurs from the other room. How long would they detain her? Ignoring her aching feet, she walked to the window and stared dismally at the magnificent city sprawled out below her. She wondered how her brother fared, then wondered how the handsome elf Captain fared.  
  
Sighing, she turned around and limped to a chair, leaning back to pull off a boot and rub her foot. She was tired and hungry, and her feet were on fire. They had ridden hard before coming across the elf, and it had been another full day's ride into the night to reach the Golden Wood. Added to the long walk, she found her exhaustion catching up to her. The elves did not look tired. Did they not sleep? She sighed again and closed her eyes, if only for a moment . . .  
  
She woke to find sunlight streaming through the window. Someone had put her feet on a stool and tucked a soft blanket around her. Her boots had been removed and sat on the floor near her chair. She sat up, realizing that her feet no longer ached, then rose to her feet, disturbed to think that she could fall asleep so deeply that she did not awake when they tended to her.  
  
She ran a hand through her long hair, and glanced around the room. A tray sat on a small table, and she walked over to inspect it. A pitcher of chilled wine glistened with condensation, and a small plate was filled with an assortment of breads and fruit. She picked up a piece of fruit, popping it into her mouth when the door opened and Orophin stepped inside, a smile touching his lips when he noticed she was barefoot.  
  
Mairen folded her arms. "What did you do to my feet? Who took off my boots? Why did you not wake me?"  
  
The elf gave an elegant shrug, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Such questions! You did not wake because we did not mean you to. Boots? Were you wearing boots?" He ignored her first question and moved near the table.  
  
Mairen frowned, tapping her fingers on her arm. Orophin stared at her fingers, then at her face, one brow rising in amusement. Did she use her brows so expressively? She squelched the urge to touch her own. She unfolded her arms, resisting the urge to twitch her fingers. She was going to have to learn to control that habit.  
  
"You healed my feet," she said coolly.  
  
"Nay, it was not I," Orophin responded. "It was Lord Celeborn." He tilted his head, then smiled suddenly, his eyes lighting up. She could hear voices in the other room, and a new one sent a thrill of pleasure rushing over her nerves. She rubbed her arms as Orophin slipped through the door into the bedroom, leaving her behind. The soft murmurs grew louder for a moment before the door shut quietly.  
  
Trying to be calm, Mairen ate another piece of fruit. Lord Celeborn? How had he known? And why were they keeping her here? She knew nothing of use, no more of Haldir's battle.  
  
Chewing absently, she crossed to the window and gazed down. Below her the city lay quiet save for a haunting melody wafting on the air, lulling her for a moment. She could not understand the words, but the music seemed to find its way into her head. She leaned on her elbows, listening to it.  
  
"Do you like the singing?"  
  
She turned quickly. Lord Celeborn stood in the doorway, watching her closely.  
  
"It's very soothing." She gazed into the deep blue eyes that were now filled with quiet amusement. "Thank you."  
  
The elf tilted his head. "For what?"  
  
Mairen looked down. "My feet. I am unused to walking such distances. The people of my land ride horses."  
  
Celeborn smiled. "It was the least we could do to repay your act of kindness." He changed the subject. "The music is a lament for Haldir. One he will not appreciate." The elven lord glanced toward the door to the bedroom. "He is awake. Come, you should meet him. I am sure he would like to meet you." He motioned for her to follow him into the next room.  
  
When Mairen stepped through the door, Rúmil and Orophin were in the process of raising Haldir upright against the pillows piled against the headboard. She would have halted on the threshold were it not for Lord Celeborn's firm grip on her elbow. His grip tightened when she hesitated, and he propelled her further into the room.  
  
Haldir lay quietly on the raised pillows, the blanket tucked around his waist. His eyes were closed, his face pale and drawn, but he seemed far more alive than when she had last seen him. It disconcerted her to find her heart leaping when he slowly opened his eyes to look at her. She stared into a gaze that turned her knees to jelly, and tried to ignore the chill sensation that she had been here before.  
  
The eyes she expected to be like his brothers' eyes were not blue, but a deep blue-tinged gray. He studied her so intensely that she fought the unfamiliar urge to turn and run. Instead, she pulled her gaze away and found herself staring at the long silvery hair that draped over his shoulders and spilled onto his chest. It was a very broad chest, one that bore only faint signs of his previous injuries. She soon found that this was not a good place to look either, and quickly raised her eyes to his face just in time to see the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Her fingers began to tingle in her palm.  
  
Lord Celeborn crossed to Haldir's side, gently running his fingers over the remaining gash on his head, and Haldir closed his eyes again. Was he still in pain? His face was still very pale and he looked weary.  
  
"I had not heard that the Rohirrim allow women among their ranks," Lord Celeborn remarked, glancing at her. "You are a surprise." He leaned over Haldir, speaking to him softly in elvish.  
  
Mairen took the chance to take a deep breath and looked over at Orophin, who sat in the chair next to the bed. He was leaning back, resting his chin on his hands while he watched the elven lord intently. Rúmil, however, was propped against the wall beside the bed, watching her in apparent amusement. It seemed her reactions had not gone unnoticed.  
  
Mairen looked back at the March Warden in time to see him frown and reach up to grip the elven lord's wrist, pulling the long fingers away from his head. Celeborn sighed and stepped back. Haldir opened his eyes to stare again at Mairen.  
  
"I owe you my thanks," he said.  
  
His voice had a deep timbre, and he spoke her tongue fluently. His long, dark brows rose slightly as his piercing gaze swept over Mairen, studying her closely. She fought the urge to fidget. What did he see?  
  
"None is needed," she replied, "but you are welcome." She folded her arms, tucking her hands under her arms.  
  
Moving closer, Orophin spoke to Haldir in Elvish, and Haldir smiled briefly, his gaze never leaving her. Mairen felt the panic rising in her mind, the need to leave, the sense she was in jeopardy flaring to a point where she had to fight to control her nerves. Willem had been right to warn her not to linger.  
  
"Orophin said you have the heart of a true warrior to travel alone a full day's ride and enter the realm of the Lady. Even with me, you risked much." Haldir took a deep breath, and shifted against the pillows, closing his eyes for a moment.  
  
"I did what was necessary," Mairen said, trying to sound detached.  
  
Orophin smiled and came around the bed to where she stood. Haldir was still and his eyes were closed, making her suspect that the pain had returned. His dark brows drew together when Celeborn leaned over him again, murmuring quietly.  
  
"He is still weak, but Celeborn feels we must heal him anyways. Come, Mairen." Orophin chuckled softly. "Haldir does not like to be healed and is not usually in a good mood afterward so I will spare you his wicked tongue." He guided her from the room with his hand, but Mairen could not resist the urge to glance back. She saw the March Warden watching her again.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen followed Orophin down the many steps of this strange city in the trees. She wanted to see Epona, but he had told her the animal was taken outside the city where they kept their own herd. She didn't like that, for it implied that she would be here for a while.  
  
She sat down near a small stream that meandered through the city, beside a moss-covered statue of an elf. The statue was elegant, its long flowing robes were carved of stone and flowed gracefully over its form, and its wide, intelligent eyes seemed to gaze down at her. She braced her elbows on her knees, staring blankly. Had the lady sent word to Willem as she had said? And how? What would he think?  
  
With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair. It was tangled and needed a good brushing. She wouldn't mind a bath either. She sat up, shaking her head. Why was she thinking like that?  
  
She had to laugh at herself. In her twenty-five years of life, Mairen had scorned a woman's role in life. The only girl child out of five boys, daughter to one of King Théoden's advisors, she'd been set apart from birth, somehow never fitting in, never quite accepted by those of her own gender. As a result she had chosen to run with the Rohirrim boys, feeling among them a kinship she had not felt among the girls or women. The skills of the warrior had suited her too, which had made it only natural that she would want to join the guard. But Théoden had balked.  
  
Mairen rubbed her forehead. It had been fun, yes, but hard as well, living with brothers who often took advantage of her, teasing her about her looks, knocking her off her horse into the mud, forcing her to do the meanest of duties. She'd endured it all in order to be one of them. And so she had become.  
  
But on some days, she still felt alone, bereft, almost as though she was not where she was supposed to be. It bewildered her. Once she had told Willem, but he had laughed, remarking that it was because she was a woman and needed a man. He had not ever said it again, she recalled, not after she tossed him into the Anduin. After that she had continued to tag along with the boys, which in the end had earned her their respect. Now she was their equal, not a subservient, whimpering female to be left behind when danger came. She defended what they defended with the same vigor and determination. She had even earned Théoden's respect.  
  
So why did she suddenly feel the need to bathe and comb her hair? She shuddered to think that it was because of this elf. Still, she had to admit she'd never felt the way she did when he looked at her. Perhaps it was only his reputation. She has seen his skill firsthand . . . or the effect of his skill in any case, during the battle. Never before had she felt uncomfortable at the sight of bare male skin. Riding with thirty men, she had left modesty behind a long time ago. But staring at him had sent waves of heat flooding through her. She scowled again. She wasn't like that! So he was pretty, but it meant nothing.  
  
"You do not seem happy with your thoughts, my dear."  
  
It was Galadriel. She smiled down at Mairen, who rose quickly and brushed off her clothes. The luminous blue eyes twinkled, telling Mairen that the elven ruler somehow knew exactly what she'd been thinking. When Mairen flushed, the Lady's smile grew, and she moved closer and tucked Mairen's hand through her arm.  
  
"Do not be angry with yourself. You cannot control what your heart decides to feel. You are dismayed at my decision to keep you here?" Galadriel smiled again at Mairen's surprised look of dismay.  
  
"I will do as you ask, my lady," Mairen said with stiff courtesy.  
  
The Lady drew her further along the stream, gliding gracefully among the moss-covered stones. "I felt Haldir's peril, knowing I could do nothing to protect him." She stopped, looking down at Mairen, for she was the taller of the two. "I also felt you nearby. I saw you when I looked into my mirror. I did not know if you would sense him, and I praise the Valar that you have such keen hearing. Haldir would have been a terrible loss to our people. I worry every time he leaves my realm, for he is fearless."  
  
Mairen nodded, aware of this aspect of his personality. "Why was he alone?"  
  
The Lady looked sorrowful. "In the beginning he was not alone, but those who accompanied him now lie in the Halls of Awaiting. They were ambushed. The Orcs they pursued were joined by a second party lying in wait. The first were bait, the second sent to destroy us. Haldir alone survived, one among the six that set out. It is an unprecedented loss for Haldir. He will not soon forgive himself."  
  
"But he could do nothing to prevent it!" Mairen cried. "The Orcs hide among the rocky hills. He would not have known they were near."  
  
Galadriel laughed bitterly. "Haldir feels he should know everything. His gaze sees all . . . or so he thinks. He does not like to be reminded that he is still imperfect. As are we all."  
  
Mairen digested this. Imperfect? Hardly. She pushed away the memory of the broad chest, and felt a hand brush her shoulder.  
  
"As much as you wish to deny it, you are still a woman. Sooner or later such feelings were bound to awaken."  
  
Embarrassed, Mairen looked away. How did she know? Was this part of the elves' magic? "It means nothing," she said gruffly. She ignored the amused look on the lady's face.  
  
"Forgive me, Mairen," said the Lady. "I do not mean to pry into your feelings. Haldir wishes to speak more with you, but he is too weak and ill tempered to do it right now. It is for his sake that I keep you here. Please bear with me a few days. I ask you not to disregard his wish to express his gratitude, for he owes you a great debt. It will not an easy thing for him to do."  
  
Mairen sighed. "Very well," she said. "I will stay." 


	3. A Gift

Hello readers, welcome! Just a quick note that in the future I will also be archiving all my stories along with Author Julie, at the following site. due to the fact Elanor has been dropped by Fan Fiction.net. thanks to all our readers, we love all of you and you inspire if not coerce us into writing more..hehe.. hugs!!! Fianna  
  
Chapter Three:  
A Gift  
  
Haldir sat on the edge of his bed, fighting the dizziness that still assailed him when he moved too quickly. The wound on his head had almost healed, as was his thigh and the multitude of other wounds. But the effects of such healing were still powerful, and they made him weak and irritable.  
  
Very irritable, as Rúmil had just found out. The younger elf sat across the room, distancing himself from his brother on the bed. Rúmil's offer to help Haldir rise had been met with a scathing retort, bitten back but not quickly enough. Haldir's heavy sigh told of an apology forthcoming.  
  
"I am sorry, Rúmil. I do not mean to snap at you."  
  
Rúmil rolled his eyes. "I should have known better. A good laugh at your expense is always welcome. To see you fall flat on your face trying to rise too soon would have been quite amusing." He only grinned at the glare he received; so much for apologies.  
  
"I cannot lie abed any longer."  
  
Rúmil leaned forward. "Haldir, you were as close to death as I have seen you in many an age. Even you cannot recover from wounds such as those in a day or two. You must give your body time to heal." He stopped and looked away with exasperation, Haldir wasn't even listening! His brother was a hardheaded stubborn. his musing was interrupted by Orophin, who entered, stopping on the threshold with hands on his hips.  
  
"Haldir, where do you think you are going?"  
  
Haldir's piercing gray glare did not incite the fear he intended. Orophin ignored it, walking over to where Haldir sat on the edge of the bed. His brother was pale, gripping the bedding tightly, a sure sign of his lingering weakness. It would not take much at this point to overpower his eldest brother, but Orophin contended the resulting explosion would find him watching the northern fences for a score of weeks. He kept his hands to himself.  
  
"You cannot rise; Haldir, you cannot even walk yet. I would hate to see you fall flat on your face in front of the Rohirran warrior. She'd probably have to pick you up and carry you back to your room." His laugh was cut short by the pillow Haldir whipped into his stomach.  
  
Orophin grunted and tossed the pillow to the side as Haldir lay back on the bed. "Even with the combined healing of both Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn," he continued, "you are weak, and need to stay in bed. Lying down."  
  
Orophin looked pointedly at Haldir, who sighed and stared at the ceiling above him. His efforts made him dizzy again and both Orophin and Rúmil's keen observations regarding his inability to rise were annoying if not accurate. The fact that both elves saw it so easily only annoyed him further. Still, his lips curved in a small smile at the mention of the female Rohirran.  
  
"Do I detect amusement?" Rúmil asked seeing the quick twitch of Haldir's lips. "Ah, this poor elf did not even get to see much of the warrior who rescued him." He grinned at Haldir's sudden frown.  
  
"I owe her my life. It was her lance that slew the Orc who thought to take my head."  
  
Orophin's brows rose slightly. "Indeed? She seems stout of heart for all her youth. A shock it was to realize she was female, but she shows little fear. Do you remember what happened?"  
  
Haldir closed his eyes, trying to pull the memories from within his mind. The ride was fuzzy, only a few moments of the journey could he remember. But he would keep them to himself. He turned his head to look at Orophin. "The last thing I remember was her lance slaying the Orc; other than that I do not recall. Where is she now?"  
  
Rúmil leaned back into his chair. "She wanders the city, irritable that Galadriel has asked her to remain here for a few days. She seems to have no patience and seeks only to join the warriors of her guard, quite like someone else I know. She has been asked to stay here until you can speak to her, but I sense the Lady has more in mind." He grinned. "I would bring her to you, but thought to spare her your temper."  
  
"I am not in a temper." Haldir shot back, staring again at the ceiling above him. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to break something. He might not remember the ride home, but all too vivid were his memories of the beginnings of that day. A derisive snort from both brothers made him scowl, but he sat up gingerly, this time accepting Orophin's assistance. "What have you seen to make you think Galadriel wishes more from the girl? I asked the Lady to keep her, but you think there is more?"  
  
Rúmil leaned forward, looking unusually pensive. "Aye, I have a niggling sense of something I cannot quite name when I look at her. I mentioned it to Galadriel and she said she understood what I meant. What ever that meant. The lady often speaks in riddles, as you well know. But I think she watches the young Rohirran carefully."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen accepted the wine from the elven servant with a nod, gripping the silver chalice carefully. It was beautiful, as was everything around her. What a tale she would have to tell the others in the band. The city of the Galadhrim lay nestled in the trees of the Golden Wood. She stared over her head at the spiraling walkways and connecting bridges, glittering in the blue shadows of the trees. Soft light filtered down through the canopy, glistening off ivory colored buildings carefully tucked into the branches. Leaves drifted down quietly, a soft rustling of sound.  
  
She leaned out the window, staring below her. A copper lantern hung beside her room, its shape mimicking that of the trees surrounding her. The elves had had centuries to perfect their city and it had a sense of permanence to it, not unlike the huge trees in which it sat, -all untouched by time.  
  
Her life was just a moment in theirs, she mused. How old was Haldir? His brothers? What they must have lived through. How many ages past had these elves endured? Her thirst for knowledge was never quenched. She had learned to read at an early age, the one pastime she had not revealed to Willem or her other brothers. They lived day to day, never wondering how the past affected the future. Never wanting to know anything beyond the scope of their own lives. But she had wanted more than that. She had learned the history of her people, and of many of the other races of Middle Earth. But the elves remained a mystery and her knowledge of them was limited.  
  
The week spent in the city had passed much more quickly than she might have thought, her wanderings engrossing her for the most part. Mesmerized by the city around her, she had begun to wonder how much longer she would have to wait.  
  
She turned to the door when it opened. Orophin stuck his head in the door with a smile. "Galadriel has given you permission to leave and we are to guide you to your brother."  
  
Mairen smiled in relief. "When?"  
  
"We shall leave tomorrow morning. Haldir has requested you see him before you go."  
  
Mairen nodded, casting a curious glance at Orophin. "He is better?"  
  
Orophin rolled his eyes and Mairen had to laugh at the familiar gesture. Brothers were similar no matter what race it seemed. "He is healed in body, but he has not taken the deaths of our wardens well. It will take him some time to come to accept it. Until then, his temper remains short. But he is up, which is an improvement."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen followed Orophin down the stairway to the attached bridge, caressing the carved wood railing as they walked. "Your city is very beautiful. I am honored to have been able to see it."  
  
Orophin frowned. "It is rare for anyone other than the Galadhrim to see it. We do not venture out into the world as we once did. Few of us leave the city at all. Haldir leaves, for he is one of the few of us who can speak many of the languages outside our own. But there is always peril whenever we venture forth."  
  
Mairen had to agree. The world had become a place of shadows and terror. Théoden, their King lay withering under the spell of his advisor. Théodred, his heir, and Eomer, the King's nephew grew fearful of his survival. The two men as well as Willem were some of the many riders who distrusted the wretched Wormtongue. Hopefully, her brother had met with both Eomer and Théodred to work out their plans to dislodge the wizard.  
  
They crossed another arched bridge, and up yet another staircase, coming to the high building that she remembered was Haldir's home. They had called it a talan, she had learned. She slipped inside with Orophin, hesitating once again at the inner door.  
  
Orophin turned around. "Mairen? Are you coming?"  
  
Mairen gripped the door for a moment, "Will you be staying as well?" she inquired nervously, her gaze scanning the empty room in front of her.  
  
Orophin looked amused, his blue eyes sparkling as he pulled her gently into the room.  
  
"I must go," he said. "I have other things to attend to, but I promise he will not bite, nor shout, for although he is still weak, he at least now can move about, and that has assuaged his temper somewhat."  
  
Mairen moved aside as he pulled the door from her fingers, watching as he shut the door. She spun around when the bedroom door opened quietly and Haldir spoke from behind her.  
  
"You return to your people then?"  
  
She nodded stiffly, and he frowned. He wore black leggings and a simple deep blue tunic that hung to his knees. His feet were bare, but his face was devoid of the luminescence that most of the elves carried. His eyes were dark with an emotion she could not name and which she hoped was not pain, for she could not read his expression well. His silvery hair hung loose down his back and she could see no trace of the gash along his hairline as he turned away from her, moving carefully toward the bookshelf.  
  
"I wished to thank you, but know not what I can do. My knowledge of you and your people is limited. It has been a long while since I have stayed among the Riders of the Riddermark, although we traverse your borders often." Haldir pulled a book from the shelf and gently leafed through it.  
  
"There is no need, Haldir. That you are well is enough." She folded her hands behind her back, gripping them tightly together. How the elf managed to make her nervous perplexed her, for he was not even looking at her. "You are well or soon will be, are you not?" She studied him for a moment longer. "Although I am amazed at the quickness of it."  
  
Haldir turned his head, his eyes dark and brooding. What was he thinking? He was imposing, this elf. He stood taller than Willem, who had reached six foot at age thirteen. The hair gleamed against the blue of his tunic where it hung nearly to his waist. The strands shimmered; silver- streaked amber and gold and even a hint of copper when the light hit it just right.  
  
His expression remained impassive, a statue carved in stone, but the dark grey eyes studied her. They moved over her slowly, gleaming darkly, drawing her unwillingly into their glittering depths. She was engulfed in them until he spoke and the spell was broken. "I am well enough, I suppose, although it will take a few more days for me to fully heal. Do you like to read?"  
  
Startled out of her reverie, Mairen felt the flush of embarrassment rising to her cheeks at her inattentiveness. "Aye, when I have time."  
  
Haldir nodded. "I thought so. Orophin said you looked at my books with interest."  
  
Mairen was taken aback. The elf had noticed that? What else did they see? She wasn't sure if she liked being watched so carefully, but then she was a stranger in their midst. They did not know her, or her intentions. So it was natural they would watch.  
  
"Would you care to look?" Haldir's voice held a trace of amusement, and she shook herself mentally to stop daydreaming. She walked over to stand beside him, extremely aware of the tall, solid body next to her. Mairen scanned the books, seeing many written in languages she did not recognize. She ran her hands over the bindings, sensing their frailty, the knowledge that lay locked inside. How she would love to read them! He reached past her, brushing her arm with his and Mairen drew back. He smiled, pulling a book from a shelf over her head.  
  
"Perhaps a book on your people? But then you must know your own history."  
  
She took the book, opening the pages to see it detailed much of what she already knew. "Aye, I have read accounts like these before." He took the book from her, replacing it on the shelf, and drew another.  
  
"Perhaps an chronicle of the elves then?"  
  
She took the book from him, her fingers accidently brushing his. Elves? How wondrous to read about them; perhaps they would not be so mysterious. She opened it carefully, running her fingers over the parchment pages, and without intention, she closed her eyes to savor it.  
  
"You may keep it."  
  
Mairen gasped with surprise. "Nay, Haldir! I cannot take something so important!" She attempted to hand the book back to him, but he shook his head.  
  
"You would deny me my right to express my gratitude? If the book would give you pleasure, then it is yours. It is not the only copy." He stared at her, his left brow rising as he looked down at her, his lips curving into a hint of a most beguiling smile.  
  
Mairen clutched the book to her chest and stiffened, sensing a subtle change in his demeanor. He seemed determined, his eyes piercing hers, and she was suddenly aware of the controlled emotions he held in check. What was he feeling? Was he angry at her refusal? She fought against the overwhelming urge to look away when his dark gray eyes narrowed.  
  
"How old are you?" he asked, moving closer until she could smell him, enveloped by his scent redolent of the forest, an earthy smell that seemed dark and mysterious.  
  
Mairen frowned, surprised by his question, and struggling to keep her mind on their conversation. "I am five and twenty." She raised her chin; doubtless he would think her only a child. His smile told her she was correct.  
  
"And you ride with your brother? Have you no other family?"  
  
"I have four more brothers. All ride in patrol since my parents died when I was very young."  
  
Haldir reached out, brushing a strand of hair off her shoulder, causing her to flinch. "Sad, to be raised among so many men. Do you not wish for female companionship?"  
  
Mairen snorted, earning her another raised brow. "Why? To watch them bat their eyelashes at the men and giggle?"  
  
Haldir laughed, and Mairen felt a shiver run through her at the sound.  
  
"But Mairen, you bat your eyelashes at me. Do you not know this?"  
  
Mairen looked at him aghast. "I do not!" She gasped in surprise and a twinge of embarrassment. She stepped away from him, her chin raised proudly. "I have never done such a thing!"  
  
Haldir tilted his head to the side. "You have never felt an interest in a man? Ever?"  
  
How had they gotten onto this subject? Mairen scowled. "Nay." She refused to comment further, unwilling to let him delve further into her life.  
  
Haldir's lips twitched slightly, "you deny yourself too much, Mairen. Love is part of life. To push such emotions away will make your life long and sorrowful. Love is where our strength comes from. You are young yet. And pretty. There must be those who seek your attentions."  
  
He thought she was pretty? She wanted to laugh at the thought, for it did not seem to fit her, and then stubbornly pushed the notion away. "Nay, I care not. I like my life as it is."  
  
He moved even closer, staring down at her for a long moment and then he sighed and looked away. "I am sorry, I do not mean to be so intrusive. It is not my place. It is only that you are an enigma to me. I know the Rohirran are a stalwart people, but I have seen few women find rank such as yours."  
  
Mairen slid away from the bookcase, and the elf. The scent of him was making her mildly dizzy, distracting her. She took several steps, then turned to face him. "There are more women than you think. They remain hidden behind helm and armor. A needless gift to the Orc if they knew more of us rode. The men grow fewer and our people struggle against the shadow. We have few choices anymore."  
  
Haldir seemed to be deep in thought, for he did not at once answer. A brief grimace flashed across his features. "Aye, few choices do we have. And the consequences of those choices are often heartbreaking."  
  
Mairen searched his face, but the elf had once more grown impassive, the gray eyes dark and devoid of any emotion. Did he lock away the sorrow that must be tearing him apart? The Lady Galadriel's words regarding Haldir's ambush and the losses came back to her and she felt the urge to reach out to ease the pain and anger he must feel.  
  
"I am sorry you lost so many," she told him quietly.  
  
His face did not change. "A choice, and consequences,"  
  
Mairen shivered at the coldness she sensed in him. She returned to his side and laid a hand on his arm. The strength she felt did not surprise her. "Would you have made a different choice had you known what would happen?"  
  
Haldir stared at her hand for a moment. "Nay, I knew the chances of ambush were high, I knew as we ran that they led us into a trap. But my arrogance colored my decision, for I felt we could defeat those we followed."  
  
Mairen could see his anger now. It was reflected in the tension of his jaw, and of the arm still beneath her hand. "You could not have known they had more in wait. They are led by one who is more cunning and evil than we dare believe."  
  
Haldir turned away, staring at the bookcase again, touching the bindings briefly. "So I tell myself. But it is not a comfort." He seemed to shake himself, and turned back to her, the eyes aloof and expressionless once more. "But I speak of things that mean nothing to you. My brothers will lead you from the Wood. Where shall they take you from here?"  
  
She blinked at the sudden change of subject. "I am to meet my brother at the river, where it meets at the foot of the mountain. A glade we often seek for respite."  
  
Haldir nodded. "A place I know well. It will take you several days to reach it."  
  
Mairen nodded. "Aye, he gave me a week, but I fear I shall not make it in time."  
  
Haldir frowned. "The Lady sent word to him, he shall wait."  
  
Mairen gripped the book again. "So she said." She started to turn away, but Haldir caught hold of her arm.  
  
"I remember some things from our ride here. Did you know I could hear you?"  
  
Mairen flushed. What had he heard? She had a habit of talking to herself. To her astonishment Haldir's smile grew mischievous, reminding her of Rúmil.  
  
"I swear I heard you call me handsome. Did I not feel a caress of your hand on my back?" he said softly.  
  
Mairen's eyes widened, startled by his directness but knowing what he said was true. She had not thought he could hear. He took the book from her hand and set it gently back on the shelf. "I must go," she said with sudden nervousness.  
  
Haldir only smiled. "Not yet. I have one favor to ask."  
  
"A favor?" she faltered.  
  
Haldir's fingers caressed her arm, sending tiny dancing spirals of flames along her flesh. What could he want? His eyes were still aloof, but something in the gray depths had changed, intensified. He leaned closer, and all at once she was drawn against him, his long fingers wrapping around her arm.  
  
"I wish to show my thanks with more than just a boring book on elvish history." He gripped her chin with his other hand and before she could speak lowered his lips to hers. The warm press of his lips stunned her, and her heart thudded in her chest as it had only during the heat of battle. She opened her mouth to protest, but he only deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening on her arm while the other hand slid around her neck and into her hair. She couldn't seem to stop the tremors that ran along her spine, or her slight moan when his lips traced the line of her jaw. She was lost. lost in a flood of feelings long denied. The years of ignoring her emotions, pushing away anything resembling feminine sentiments, fell away replaced by an inferno of desire. It raced through her body, flaring flames that threatened to engulf her, and she trembled violently at the intensity of her feelings. No! She would not do this! She pushed him away, ducking under his arms, her breathing ragged.  
  
"I am not like that!" Mairen gasped, backing up several steps as he stared at her, those gray eyes gleaming. "I am a Rider of the Mark! I will not give up what I have worked so long to gain." She spun on her heel and reached for the door, but he was quicker. He braced his hand against the door, holding out the book.  
  
"I am sorry if I offended you." Haldir said quietly.  
  
Mairen glared at him, then took the book, clutching it tightly to her chest. "Thank you. I will read it with pleasure. You owe me nothing more, March Warden." He stepped away from the door and she pulled it open; slipping through quickly to hurry down the stairs, away from him.  
  
Away from the torment one tall elf had just created in her heart. 


	4. Peril

Chapter Four:  
Peril  
  
Haldir leaned against the tree trunk, spinning the long elvish hunting knife over his fingers while he waited for his brothers' return. Two weeks spent unwillingly inactive in the city sparked an already short temper. Returning the wicked knife to the sheath in his boot, he crouched down among the large roots of the Mallorn tree and forced himself to be patient.  
  
He knew he should not be so desperate to stand the borders so quickly. Too strong would be the reminders of those elves left far behind. Gone now to the Halls of Mandos were those five loyal elves who had followed him into the plains of Rohan never doubting him, following his order with nary a thought to say nay.  
  
Perhaps he should have been more patient and not set out so quickly in pursuit. Yet if he had waited, the trail would soon have grown cold. How many had been lost in the Orcs' raid? Did not the souls of the slain deserve the vengeance Haldir and his elves meted out? He had to weigh both atrocities in his head and come to terms with them. He slid a hand through his hair, disentangling a few strands from the arrows in his quiver as his thoughts became mired in the recent past.  
  
They had come upon the Orcs, and with keen strokes borne of anger and fervor, they had decimated the party of shadow creatures with arrow and sword. But they had not lingered long in their victory, for as soon as the last stroke of death had been brought upon the savage creatures, more had overrun them. Haldir's jaw hardened as his mind slipped back to those desperate hours that had followed their ambush . . .  
  
Twice the number that he had expected, twice the number that they had pursued. Orc and Uruk-hai, both foul kind working together for one cause, to destroy the elves. He had had only five, plus himself. They had fought bravely, but two had been killed instantly when the second set of Orcs hurled themselves from the rocky hills, slaying the two elves running forward guard. He could only be thankful their deaths had been quick.  
  
The remaining elves had struggled, attempting to withdraw from the trap the Orcs had thought to spring, back onto open ground. The Orcs had been prepared, fully aware of the magical qualities of the elven cloak to fade into the background, and they forced the elves into retreat. Three elves against a hundred was a lost cause. They had withdrawn, he himself taking rear guard, the most dangerous position. How many arrows had grazed his skin, their whispers of death flying only a breath from his body? But they nonetheless ran, only to find themselves within another circle of Orcs, for the creatures had planned well. Another elf had fallen; to be scavenged by the Orcs as Haldir and the last elf broke away.  
  
Haldir leaned a hand against the trunk of the tree, resting his forehead on his arm as he fought against the memories and his grief. They had run, with Haldir pushing Tirion to run farther and faster. The Orcs had closed in, slashing at the elves as they spun past the creatures, their agility and quickness keeping them a step ahead, but again the Orcs had gathered, and in their superior numbers had forced the two into a narrow chasm. Both of them had recognized their plight, but it had been Tirion who had turned and leaped back into the fray, sacrificing himself in order for Haldir to escape to the open plain once more. Hounded by the Orcs, Haldir had continued and finally stumbled, an arrow in his thigh, unable to run further. And so it was that he had stood his ground on the rocky hillside, his sword cleaving those who came near him. How long had he fought? Hours. Feeling his strength ebb with every swing, fighting for his life, hating the way the Orcs had begun to toy with him.  
  
And then he had found deliverance.  
  
He could never have imagined a less likely scene. He remembered little from the moment the Rohirrim Calvary had come crashing over the hill. Gravely wounded by not only the arrow in his thigh but the slash he had barely avoided to his head, the world had slowly gone gray and then black. Only the sound of the fighting had remained until that too faded from his mind. The sight of the warrior whose lance had saved him was the last memory that burned into his mind . . .  
  
He jerked himself out of his recollections, hearing his brothers in the distance. It would not do for them to see his melancholy; they would sense it far too soon as it was. He pushed away from the tree; standing within the shadowy roots until the two elves were close enough that Haldir could have reached out and touched them. He stood silent, still, listening with a lightening heart to their banter, pulled back into the present by the light-heartedness of their chatter.  
  
They stopped when they reached him, unerringly turning to gaze into the shadows as he stepped forward.  
  
"Mae Govannen," Rúmil said, reaching out to embrace Haldir's shoulders with one arm, drawing his elder brother into a strong hug that was reluctantly returned.  
  
Orophin leaned on his great bow; unstrung, it stood as tall as he did, a sliver from the heart of a mallorn, cured and sealed with expertise gained from long years in the making of such weapons. A strand of elven hair was wound into the string and this Lórien weapon was valued among the warriors of Middle Earth as one of Arda's finest and one of the most lethal. In the hand of an elven warrior, it was death with one arrow. Oblivious of the qualities of the bow in his hand, Orophin studied Haldir with a gaze that saw far more than the March Warden liked.  
  
"You've been brooding again," Orophin said quietly.  
  
Haldir frowned, debating whether to deny what both of his brothers knew to be true. "Aye, I cannot abide idleness," he admitted. "Celeborn will not allow me to go to the practice fields to relieve my boredom. But now that you two have returned, perhaps I may find something to pass the time."  
  
Rúmil chuckled and stepped back to allow Haldir to walk between them. "The borders were quiet. It was as well you did not return for you would have brooded there as much as here. If not more."  
  
Haldir glanced at Orophin, who had grown unaccustomedly silent. The elf stared in front of him, gripping the bow he carried in a tight fist. "What is it that troubles you?"  
  
Orophin stopped on the path, returning Haldir's gaze with haunted blue eyes. "A foreboding, Haldir. It has been with me ever since the young female came to Caras Galadhon. I fear what it may portend."  
  
Haldir's chin lifted slightly, one eyebrow arching. "A foreboding? Have you spoken of it to Galadriel?"  
  
"Aye, he did, just before we left," Rúmil said. "I don't think he liked her answer."  
  
Haldir turned to look at Orophin. "What did she say?"  
  
Orophin set the end of the bow into the ground between his feet and stared hard at Haldir. "Only that I should stay close to your side once I return. For your life may yet be at stake."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen leaned forward in her saddle, attempting to stretch muscles tight from the long hard ride in anticipation that they would sleep tonight in Edoras, the first in a very long time. She glanced behind her, gazing back the way they had come. Had it only been weeks since she had returned from Lothlórien? It seemed like years had passed. The band of riders pounded over the ridge, the horses running close, lances gleaming in the afternoon sun. How long had it been since they had been in the city? She hoped things were well.  
  
They rode up the hill, leaning forward on their horses as they climbed the steep road. She tried to gain a glimpse inside the city, but the walls surrounding it closed off her view. Above them, on the heights, lay Théoden's home Meduseld, but no banners flapped on the high standards. It was an ominous sign.  
  
They thundered into the city, only to find it deserted. The houses and buildings remained intact but the city was still, deathly quiet. They slowed, the riders glancing about nervously. To leave the city unguarded meant there had been great danger. They stopped and dismounted, pulling swords free. Willem leaped up the steps into the palace, but returned quickly, shaking his head.  
  
They gathered in the street, several riders returning from searching empty homes. Willem turned around, staring at the empty street, the houses.  
  
"They've gone to the Deep, all of them. The Orcs have amassed an army. We are at war."  
  
Willem turned to the old man who staggered from the doorway of a house no one had checked. He leaned heavily on a crooked staff, eyeing the riders from his stoop.  
  
Willem leaped up the hill to grip the old man's shoulder. "Why are you not with them, old one?"  
  
The old man cackled. "Why? To watch the young ones die? Théoden, by the grace of the Valar, has returned to good health, but perhaps too late to save his people. He rides with what few riders remain after Wormtongue exiled Eomer."  
  
Willem stared at the man in astonishment. "You have given me more news in two sentences Old One, than I received in a month. What of the king's son?"  
  
"Dead. Eomer brought him in, but he died a few days later. Ambushed by Orcs. The King hardly noticed, so far befuddled was he by that accursed Wormtongue."  
  
Willem stared hard at the old man. "How long ago did they leave?"  
  
The old man leaned on his walking stick. "Three days past, but the darkness follows them. I fear they shall not make it to the Deep."  
  
Willem spun, shouting orders to the patrol, then turned back, taking the reins of his horse from Mairen. "We follow. I shall hope your words, old man, do not portend what I fear." He leapt onto his horse, nodding quickly to his riders, and they swung around, thundering out of the empty city into the grass-covered plain once more.  
  
~*~  
  
Haldir strode rapidly along the walkways, deftly weaving around the few elves lingering on the wooden paths, Rúmil following a few steps behind. Ignoring the surprised glances of those they passed, Haldir hurried down the stair to the next crossing, his grey cloak flaring out behind him, his long strides eating the distance. They ascended the last stair to the Lady's talan with leaps that took the steps two at a time, arriving on the mallorn leaf flet just as Galadriel descended from the upper level. Celeborn stood waiting at the bottom of the steps, and he took Galadriel's hand in his when she reached his side. They then turned to the two wardens, and both Haldir and Rúmil bowed in greeting.  
  
"My lady, your summons sounded dire," Haldir said, noting Galadriel's troubled expression. "How may I serve you?" Rarely did the elven leader allow events to sway her calm demeanor, but he could see that the Lady was deeply disturbed.  
  
Galadriel withdrew her hand from Celeborn's and slid her hands into the folds of her sleeves. "I see much of what lies around us in the lands of Middle Earth, Haldir. Long have we watched the worlds of men grow, claiming lands once held by the elves. We have secluded ourselves within our worlds, fighting the battles we must, but caring not for the others of this land."  
  
"I fear what lies ahead, for the tidings of war have grown loud," Celeborn added. "But do they touch our world? That is what we must decide."  
  
Haldir shifted, relaxing slightly, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "If the elves must fight, then we shall do so with all the honor we possess."  
  
Galadriel smiled, reaching out to brush her fingers along Haldir's cheek. "As you always do, Haldir. But this fight, it is not our own. I have spoken with Elrond; the One Ring has left the lands of Men and now fights its way into the shadow. But closer to us looms a terrible battle, one that may test the very souls of Men."  
  
Haldir frowned. "What do we owe the race of men that we should intervene?"  
  
Celeborn looked at Haldir, before his gaze moved on to Rúmil. "Indeed, what do we owe them? We have long watched them destroy themselves with their thirst for power and greed. They have taken over lands once filled with elves, while we recede, leaving them those lands, returning to our home across the sea. Why should we stay? This fight is no longer ours."  
  
Galadriel glanced at her husband. "I do not agree, though your thoughts side with those of Elrond. We cannot look past this fight, and care not what it portends. Yet among the men fights the one who will come forth and lead that people back to its glory. What would happen were he to fall? The shadow will grow and even our way to the West may be torn from us."  
  
Haldir studied the Lady of Light as she turned away, moving slowly to the edge of the flet to look down upon the city.  
  
Galadriel's voice deepened as she spoke. "Long have we lived among the trees of the Golden Wood, yet our hearts still lie in the old lands. The sea calls us to return home, yet our time here is not over, and what little remains must be handled with great care." She turned slowly around. "My mirror does not show me our future, and I fear what shadows might overcome us. What say you, Haldir? You are among the few of my people who know what lies outside our borders."  
  
Haldir folded his hands behind his back. "The world of Men is growing, my lady, yet their armies are small. Sauron has been drawing hoards of men and shadow creatures to his call. I fear the men will be overrun."  
  
Galadriel moved forward, pausing in front of Haldir. "My mirror shows me one future. I have seen the decimation of Rohan, the destruction of her people. Elrond tells me that even now the King flees to Helm's Deep. Not only do they have the evil of Sauron to consider, but also a new threat comes from the hands of Saruman the wizard. He has fallen deep into shadow and he sends his forces to Helm's Deep on the heels of the Horse Lords."  
  
Haldir's expression did not change, but his head reeled with this information. "The men of Rohan are strong," he replied. "Their fortress has never been taken."  
  
"But all the warriors of Rohan are not with their king," Celeborn said. "Half his men have left and ride the plains with the King's nephew Eomer, who was banished."  
  
Haldir glanced at Rúmil. Orophin and Rúmil had only recently left Mairen with her brother, but he had not mentioned such tidings. Had Mairen's brother known? "Why would the King banish his captain? Has he gone mad?"  
  
Celeborn stepped close to Haldir, his steely gaze locking with Haldir's. "Indeed he had, for the evil wizard took his mind, though it has since been restored. Were it not for Mithrandir, the people of Rohan would already be destroyed. As it is, they are few; mostly women and children fleeing to the castle in the Deep while Rohan's finest warriors ride with Eomer and know naught of the peril that follows their kin."  
  
Haldir absorbed this with a frown. "Then we must help them."  
  
Galadriel spoke. "This may well be a grave sacrifice, Haldir, for I fear you may not return from such a fight. Are you willing to give your life to the race of men?" Her blue eyes met his in a look filled with compassion and concern.  
  
Haldir stiffened, glancing back at Rúmil, who moved forward to stand beside him. "Once, long ago, we fought with men in an alliance of which we were proud. The race of Men has shown courage; I have seen it for myself. And as you say, that race includes the one who must continue to lead the fight against the shadow." He paused. "I will ask those among us who would be willing to go. I will not force any elf to follow me."  
  
Galadriel bowed her head. "I pray to the Valar that you will be safe and return home in good health, though my heart weeps that we must fight at all." She raised her head to meet Haldir's steady gaze. "Go then, with those who would follow you, and tell the Men once more of our gift to them, the gift of bow and sword from the elves of Lórien and from Elrond of Rivendell. For Elrond also is certain of this path, though he cares naught for it." She stepped forward, embracing first Haldir, and then Rúmil tightly before the two elves bowed deeply and departed.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen sat on the steps leading into the great hall of Helm's Deep, staring at the rising sun, shielding her eyes from the bright rays. They had reached the fortress a day past, and had found themselves drawn quickly into the events of the past weeks in Edoras. She had just glanced back down at the book in her lap when excited murmurs swept through the crowd below her. She stared as a tall man swept up the steps, his dark shoulder length hair lank and dirty, his clothes torn and damp. He looked frightful and yet such strength emanated from him that it brought her to her feet. He passed by her, his eyes dark with worry, and stopped in front of the elf, Legolas, who had been standing behind her. Mairen watched them curiously.  
  
She had been surprised to find the elf within the Keep, his blond hair drawing her attention as soon as they made their way inside. He had stood along the side of the hall, hidden partially in the shadows, but his hair had gleamed in the torchlight, and for a moment Mairen had feared it was Haldir. But she had been mistaken, for this elf was tall and slim. He had not spoken to anyone other than the dwarf who stood by his side, but she had felt his keen gaze sweep over her and her brother, noting their entrance.  
  
Her attention focused on the bedraggled ranger, knowing this must be Aragorn, for she had heard much of him since they'd arrived in the fortress. He and the elf were long-time friends, she'd been told, and she could sense the bond between the two as they stood together. She tried not to stare, but the elf drew her gaze as he had from the first time she set eyes on him. Noting that his dress was different from the Lórien elves, she'd wanted to speak to him, but instead had asked Eowyn about him. Eowyn had turned away from the elf, her eyes dark with despair, and explained about Aragorn and the fellowship of which Legolas was a part.  
  
Mairen sighed; gripping the book that Haldir had given her while she wondered what had happened to Aragorn and why he looked so grim. She watched him move past Legolas to push open the doors to the hall and disappear inside. She then turned to stare out beyond the walls, uneasiness sweeping through her.  
  
Several minutes later, the doors flew open once more and Théoden stalked out, still deep in conversation with Aragorn. The elf followed, but to Mairen's surprise, his blue eyes settled on her, catching her gaze. With elflike grace, he came to her side.  
  
"I saw you earlier," he said. "I thought you meant to speak to me, but you turned away. Did I frighten you so that you could not speak?" He smiled a bit mischievously, and Mairen flushed.  
  
"Nay, I did not want to intrude," she said. "You seemed lost in thought."  
  
Legolas glanced back at the retreating figures of Aragorn and Théoden. "I feared I would not see my friend again and my heart was heavy." He touched the binding of the book in her hand. "A book on elvish history? An odd choice for a warrior."  
  
Mairen glanced at the book, and then smiled. "A gift." She reached out to touch the elf's arm when he began to turn away. "Please, what news does Aragorn bring?"  
  
Legolas turned back to her, his mouth now a thin line of frustration. "War. And odds that far outweigh us." He turned around, hurrying to catch up with Aragorn and King Théoden.  
  
Mairen sat down, staring blindly at the book. War. So it was finally here. She glanced around her at the motley assemblage of men, feeling her heart sink as she took them in. More boys and old men than stalwart fighters. They had so few.  
  
*~*  
  
The wind had grown stronger as the day wore on, blowing from the east with a cold clammy feel that made Mairen shiver despite the many layers she wore. Beside her, the men on the ramparts waited expectantly, the darkness hiding the fear in their eyes, the tremble of their limbs. Inexperienced and untrained, many stood wavering in the torchlight, listening with great unease to the pounding of the many steel shod feet outside the walls.  
  
Uruk-hai. Thousands, against so few. She hovered at the end of the line, gripping her bow tightly, Willem standing next to her, his blue eyes trained angrily on the hoard below. She had forced her way to the front of the line, ignoring Willem's attempts to keep her back. He stood now, glaring at the creatures, and then turned to her with a grin, cocky and sure.  
  
"We'll be rid of them in only a few hours, Mairen."  
  
She scowled. "With only untrained men and boys to defend us? Nay, we are lost."  
  
Willem glanced at her. "But we've got the elves, Mairen! Were you not amazed when they marched in?"  
  
Mairen looked below her at the long line of elven archers. Unwilling to reveal the blush that stained her face, she stared down along the row of elves to where she knew Haldir must be. Amazed? Nay, stunned would better describe her reaction. She gripped her bow, wishing it might be the only weapon she would need this night, yet knowing the oncoming conflict would likely require all her skills.  
  
She pulled her gaze away from the elves, Willem's words still echoing in her thoughts. How could one not be amazed to see the company of elves that had arrived so short a time ago? Announcing themselves with their stately horn, their banners held high above their heads, they had marched into the Deep in strict order-unemotional, well-armed, and as beautiful as they were deadly. A boon to the weary Rohirrim, but it seemed like only yesterday that she had been within their midst and Mairen could only feel the horror of knowing they were here. She bit her lip to still the trembling. Had she helped to save Haldir only to see him die this night?  
  
Willem nudged her. "Mairen, are you well? What is it?"  
  
Mairen glanced at him. stilling the nervousness that fluttered in her fingers. Willem seemed not to have recognized the elf leading the procession, nor her reaction to his presence. Though she hated to admit it, Haldir still had the power to affect her. Even after all these weeks apart, she could feel the intensity of his gaze, the power of his touch.  
  
She brushed her hand across her forehead, recalling the moment when she had seen him arrive. She and Willem had stood on the rampart directly above Théoden when the King met the procession of elves. She had been frozen, suddenly unable to breathe when Haldir had stepped forward. How had she missed his approach? The scarlet cloak he had worn was a striking reminder of the blood he had so recently lost, and his golden mail had shimmered almost mockingly in the torchlight. Haldir had been glorious, fully armed with a Lórien bow and his long bladed sword at his hip. The March Warden of Lothlórien had bowed to Théoden, the elf's words echoing on the ramparts although he spoke only in normal tones of voice. Smooth and flowing, his words had given hope. Except to Mairen.  
  
"Come, Mairen, stop daydreaming. Do you dream of the elf captain? You certainly stared at him enough," Willem teased, though she doubted he realized how on target his words were. "I knew sending you into their midst was not a good decision."  
  
Mairen glanced warily at her brother. "I will admit he is pleasing to gaze upon, and that is as far as it goes. All elves are beautiful, and he no less than the others." She turned back to look over the wall, her eyes rising to the sky as the first drops of rain splattered her face. Aye, he'd been breathtaking with his long silvery blond hair and those striking gray eyes. She had not forgotten their depth, or her very physical reaction to his kiss. The elf's hesitant acceptance of Aragorn's enthusiastic greeting had made her smile, but the memory of that humor drained away as she closed her eyes, feeling the rain as it poured from the heavens, distracting her from her thoughts.  
  
The Uruk below began to pound whatever weapons they carried on the ground. Thrumming boots, swords, and spear staffs mingled with low grumbling voices more than a thousand strong. Lightning split the sky and illuminated the slack faces of the men watching. Fear, it was strong, yet she could see them gathering their courage, forcing away the terror. The rain poured down and she could hear Aragorn shouting in the distance; he must be speaking elvish for she could not understand what he said as he paced tirelessly among the elvish warriors.  
  
She gazed at them, awed by their calmness, their amazing precision as they spun their bows from their backs to the ready. She clutched her own bow, tiny in comparison to the elvish longbows, and her eyes shifting from elf to elf. They stood stoically, their faces unreadable, the eyes directed forward toward the enemy. What were they thinking? Did they realize that even with their strength and ability the fortress was most likely lost? Did they know the sacrifices they were about to make? Mairen shuddered, wiping the rain from her face with her sleeve, ignoring the cold bite of her mail against her flesh.  
  
The air was thick with tension; the elves drew back their bows. Mairen looked down the line, searching instinctively for Haldir. Where was he? Did he too draw bow, his stance frozen in the interminable wait for the order to fire? The elves did not move, but Mairen did, her fingers twitching as she faced toward the terrible hoard below.  
  
An arrow pierced the stillness and broke the anticipation. Its whistling arc struck, and a creature fell. Mairen slowly pulled back her bowstring, aiming her own arrow at the shouting mass. Beside her, Willem drew his own, and the arrows flew at the Uruks. It had begun.  
  
They stood on the ramparts, firing the arrows they had, picking up the few from the Uruks that landed on the stone floor and firing those as well. The minutes seemed like hours, and perhaps it truly was; she had no way to gauge the time in the rain and darkness. Thunder boomed over their heads, but the sound was drowned out by the screaming and thunder of the battle below.  
  
Mairen tossed aside her bow at the order to draw swords, and shivered at the chilling sound of blades drawn from scabbards. The elves drew back, and as the Uruks and other black creatures scrambled over the walls, they slashed them with keen eyed strokes. But elves died as well, killed by arrows and the hacking slashes of the crazed Uruks who first climbed over the walls.  
  
She was taken aback by the ill-gotten creatures' ferocity and blood lust. They swung their vicious weapons with abandon, hacking and cleaving anyone unlucky enough to stand in their way, and they died fearlessly, impaled on sword or arrow, to fall back with angry screams into the mass below.  
  
The men, successful against the first rush of Uruk-hai, had decimated many of their numbers, taking many down as ladders were shoved away from the walls, or boiling oil, pitch and stones were dropped on heads below. Mairen ducked under several Rohirran soldiers, avoiding their swings as she pushed her way down the steps to the next level, shoving man and elf aside to gain better footing.  
  
She was met with growls of anger and surprise. Most of the men knew her; the elves did not, but recognized her gender quick enough. She could hear the shouts of the men, the screams of the wounded, the near soundless cries of the elves when they fell. The horror, the blood and death surrounded her, and she slid into a small alcove for a moment to gain her breath, Willem only a step behind her.  
  
He knew better than to tell her to go. His face was grim now, the cockiness gone now that the battle raged around them. He leaped forward, wrestling with an Uruk; smaller than the other, but still wily and agile. He slipped under the creature's guard to impale him on the wide Rohirrim blade.  
  
Mairen leaped forward, using her smaller size to advantage, stabbing another Orc from behind. She made her way down the rampart wall, her blade flashing, coated in black blood, taking the places of those who had fallen. She watched the elves fight in front of her, ducking to avoid the long elvish swords as they fought around her.  
  
She heard the shouts first, turning to see Aragorn waving furiously toward the Uruks below. She looked back in confusion toward Willem only to be thrown to the floor of the rampart by the explosion, the thunder of the blast ringing in her head. She could feel the bite of stone in her cheek, the blood running down her jaw. She rolled over, groaning at the pain in her shoulders, aware now of the huge gap in the wall in front of them. She sat up, searching in panic for Willem, and found him leaning against the granite wall, grinning stupidly at her.  
  
"Stop that!" she snarled. "What do you find so funny?" She wiped the offending blood from her cheek only to feel a fresh rivulet trace its way over her skin.  
  
Willem rose slowly, and pulled her to her feet. "You. You look as if you could strangle an Orc with your bare hands."  
  
Mairen scowled and turned toward the breach. Aragorn was below, amid the confusion with the regrouped elves, and she watched as they ran to stop the Uruk-hai that were forcing their way through the shattered wall. Arrows arced over her head from the reformed elven archers, flying with deadly accuracy into the swarm below, while the Uruks returned fire, less accurate but still finding their marks among the elves and humans on the walls. The clang of swords, the echo of thunder, beat inside her head as she ran along the wall, searching for one particular elf.  
  
Théoden's call to pull back was a distant echo as she caught sight of Haldir in his scarlet cloak, his graceful movements mesmerizing her for a brief moment. Haldir was so elegant, so fluid and yet so deadly, swinging the long elvish blade with precision, slicing one Uruk only to spin his sword over his head and impale another, his thrusts and parries clean and quick and beautiful to behold. As if sensing her gaze, he turned to stare at her and Willem as they approached.  
  
"Get off the wall," he snarled, seizing Mairen's sleeve and pulling her against him as an arrow whizzed too close to where she had just stood. Wondering if he recognized her, she fought against the curl of cold fire that flickered in her stomach. He shoved her against the wall, and yanked Willem along beside her. She noticed he showed no trace of his former injury, but Mairen had to wonder if he was truly well.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he growled. "You are too young to be fighting such a battle. Go find a safer haven." For all its anger, his voice was silky and musical.  
  
Mairen met his icy gray eyes. "I will not hide," she snapped, and pushed up from the wall, only to be yanked roughly down once more.  
  
"You will be only a memory if you persist in sticking your head up over the wall. The Uruk may not shoot well, but the arrows are many." Haldir gripped her arm as she tried to pull away. The fighting was growing heavy, and more Uruk were climbing onto the ramparts behind them.  
  
Haldir rose to spin his sword, cleaving the Uruk in two, the body dropping over the edge to crash below. Mairen stared at the long elvish blade. She had known he possessed amazing skill, but to see him in front of her, wielding his sword, its blurring movement telling a tale of death, was both frightening and awe-inspiring. Although a warrior herself, Haldir's intensity and agility astounded her, and she was frozen for the moment in admiration. She gasped when he reached down to grab her arm and haul her to her feet.  
  
"Go, Mairen! Do as I say! We are pulling back." He began to shout in Elvish, waving the remaining elves back along the ramparts, his hair swinging around his shoulders as he spun around.  
  
She was pushed along with several others, getting separated from Willem, who remained close to Haldir. She tried to twist back, but an elf beside her gripped her waist, pulling her with him. She heard him grumble something low, but could not understand what he said. She struggled to free herself, turning back to see Willem duck under Haldir's next parry, swinging his blade over her brother's head at the Uruk-hai climbing over the wall.  
  
She watched more Uruk flood the rampart, and felt the sudden rush of foreboding as Haldir turned to face the new threat, for once too slowly to avoid the creature behind him. To her horror, she saw Haldir stagger, pain contorting his face as he and Willem drove their swords into the black- faced creature before them. Stricken with shock, Mairen broke free of the hold around her waist, then froze as she saw Haldir stumble, appalled by the blank look on his face as he slowly stumbled and fell to the stone rampart. Willem screamed in anger and lurched forward to plunge his sword into the Uruk who stood behind Haldir, but not before the massive creature swung its broad fist, slamming her brother in the temple. They both fell over the edge of the rampart and out of Mairen's sight.  
  
Her heart pounding, she fought her way back along the wall, struggling against the tide of fleeing elves and men, her blade flashing against the few Uruks who crossed her path. She was shoved back, pushed aside, and fell once, scrambling to her feet in time to see Aragorn cradling Haldir in his arms. Seeing this, her fear nearly overwhelmed her, yet when she finally reached Haldir, Aragorn was gone, back into the fray. Haldir lay still, his eyes wide and unblinking.  
  
Kneeling beside him, she moaned aloud in acute and unexpected grief, then rose to look over the edge of the rampart for Willem. He lay far below, but she saw he was moving slightly, having landed on the Uruk as they fell. Seeing Willem alive, she turned back to Haldir. Dropping to her knees once more, she lay her head against the bloody armor, the metal cold and sticky against her ear. Beneath his breastplate, she could hear his heart beating slowly, a soft thud that was music to her ears. He was alive! She brushed her hands over his cheeks, pushing aside the blood- soaked hair from his face, and felt him shudder violently. His gray eyes closed and his face grew white.  
  
A hand suddenly gripped her shoulder, and she looked up into Orophin's grave blue eyes. "Orophin!" she said quickly. "Haldir is injured severely and Willem as well."  
  
Orophin nodded, his attention already on Haldir. He gently lifted his brother's arm, shaking his head at Haldir's wound, and then gently rolled his brother on to his side. She heard him utter a soft gasp.  
  
"I will do what I can, Mairen, but I will need your help."  
  
She shivered and nodded, wondering if they could heal Haldir again, so soon after the last time. This appeared even worse than Haldir's earlier injuries. Would he have the strength to withstand such another brutal blow?  
  
She helped turn Haldir onto his stomach, once more brushing the bloody hair away, while Orophin cut the straps to Haldir's mail and pulled away the leather crossing over his back. Orophin's face was devoid of emotion as he pulled the offending garment away, along with a layer of blood-soaked tunic. Orophin glanced around, aware of their peril, for the ramparts were still flooded with Orcs. Yet several elves remained near, defending their captain with determination. Orophin leaned closer to inspect Haldir's wound-deep, bloody, and black with orc blood. Mairen looked away, biting her lip. How could the elves heal so serious an injury?  
  
"You must sit on him, Mairen, for he will jerk and shudder. I cannot fully heal him, for I have not the strength. But I can do enough so that we can be sure he will live. When he gains consciousness, we will move him to safety, though he will be in immense pain."  
  
Mairen sat carefully on Haldir's hips, thinking her weight would not hinder the elf beneath her at all, while Orophin laid gentle hands on the injury.  
  
"Haldir is my commander," he said, "and I am defying his direct order in healing him now. I will not be much good when I am done here." The elf looked at her, his blue eyes grave. "It takes much power to heal. But he is near death and I dare not wait for Rúmil. I called to him, but he is too far."  
  
Mairen leaned forward. "I will do what I can, but my own brother lies below."  
  
Orophin glanced toward the edge of the rampart, indecision crossing his face. "He will survive if he did not die from the fall."  
  
Straddling Haldir's hips, Mairen took hold of his armor and tightened her grip. "My weight will do nothing to hold him down."  
  
Orophin actually smiled, his blue eyes glinting in an unexpected moment of humor. "I do not expect you to hold him down, Mairen. I merely want you to distract him with your presence. Having you on top of him should force him to control his reaction to the healing. Unkind it may sound, but he must not rise or he will sunder what little I can do to hold him together. I can only hope your memory clouds his mind as fully as I think it does."  
  
He put his hands over Haldir's wound and closed his eyes. Immediately, Mairen found herself drawn into a haze, felt the strands of the elf's magic as they swept through his hands into the limp form beneath her. Haldir remained limp for only a moment, then he heaved up, nearly throwing her aside.  
  
"Lie still," she commanded, bending down so he could hear her better. "Come now, handsome elf, do not force me to lie down on you. Lie still if you wish to live." She felt him relax, but could feel the taut muscles in his back as he shivered violently. She saw his hands curl into fists as he fought against the ghastly pain.  
  
Still, she pushed down on the bloody armor, fearing he might buck again, and watched him carefully. His jaw tensed, and she could feel waves of something sweeping through his body. When she looked up again, she saw the blood draining from Orophin's face, as though he was giving part of himself to Haldir. Then a sound from behind made her leap up, but instead of an Uruk-hai, she saw another elf rushing forward, his blond hair tangled with blood, a slash across his nose and cheek  
  
"Rúmil! Thank the Valar!" Mairen cried, kneeling down again.  
  
Rúmil threw aside his sword as he reached them, catching Orophin just as he released Haldir and collapsed backward.  
  
Mairen reached out to touch Haldir's cheek. His skin was warm, but not clammy, and his eyes opened instantly at her touch. Without warning, his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, causing her to gasp. He glared at her, his gray eyes clouded with pain yet still piercing.  
  
"You are more than a fool," he rasped painfully. He shifted, struggling to rise but two pairs of hands held him down.  
  
"You cannot rise," Rúmil said sternly. "Your injury is too grave. We must leave this place, but we'll have to carry you." He and Orophin leaned forcefully on Haldir's arms to hold him still, yet Haldir retained his hold of Mairen's wrist and she was afraid she would hurt him if she tried to pull away.  
  
Haldir shuddered and closed his eyes for a moment, and Mairen watched him closely. His grip was so tight; how could he have such strength when injured so dreadfully? She gently tried to pull her arm back, but he only opened one eye and scowled.  
  
"You should not be here," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes glittering as he squeezed her wrist.  
  
Mairen curled her hand into a fist and glared back. "I am a warrior. I am here where I am supposed to be. I would rather die fighting than cowering back in the caves with the children."  
  
Haldir drew her closer until she could see the long eyelashes of his eyes, his gaze pinning her. "A life is not so easy to create, Mairen. It is foolish, this wish to die so soon."  
  
"I could say the same to you," she replied with a frown. "And be still. You should not be talking."  
  
He closed his eyes as a shudder of pain caught hold of him, and turned his head away from her as his brothers eased him into a sitting position.  
  
Mairen watched them, and then froze as she suddenly remembered Willem.  
  
She leaped to her feet, running down the rampart steps to her brother's side. He was still lying on the dead Uruk, his head covered in blood. She touched him gingerly and heard him moan.  
  
"Mairen . . . I think I've broken my ribs," he gasped. "I could hear you above. For some reason, you sounded like you were right next to me. I...I can't see anything, Mairen. I checked my eyes, and they are open, but I can't see a thing!" He waved a feeble hand in front of his eyes, but they did not blink nor appear to focus.  
  
Mairen leaned over him, checking his body, feeling the broken bones of his ribs with a shudder, but finding no other wound. She touched the gash on his forehead gingerly; it was wide, and still bled freely.  
  
"Your ribs are broken, I dare not move you yet. Your sight will return." She looked up to see the elves making their way down the steps, Haldir held tightly between them. She paused, a thought crossing her mind, then she rose and ran to meet them at the base of the steps.  
  
"You can heal others, can you not?" she cried, touching Orophin's arm as he reached the base of the steps.  
  
Orophin looked back at the chaos that reigned on the ramparts above them, the elves protecting them, forcing back the Uruks who thought to follow. He glanced past her to Willem, and she saw regret on his face.  
  
"I dare not, for I do not know how our magic will affect him," he said as he staggered slightly, his face almost as pale as Haldir's.  
  
Mairen hurried alongside them as they carried Haldir toward the back, near steps that led into the fortress, pulling them to a halt beside the high granite wall. She glanced back to where Willem still lay. "Please, you must try! He's lost his sight, but it's only a small wound. Please!"  
  
Orophin and Rúmil laid Haldir gently on the ground. The March Warden was still, his face ashen, and Mairen looked away, fighting her fear and concern for him as well as her brother.  
  
"I am sorry, but I can do no more," Orophin declared softly. "Rúmil has not the skill, only Haldir and I can heal. Not many are given this ability, Mairen. It is a gift and must be used wisely."  
  
"But it is such a small wound!" she said desperately, knowing her words were futile. A part of her brain understood and accepted Orophin's position, yet her fear for Willem made her unreasonable.  
  
Rúmil reached out, pulling her aside, and looked down, his nose still bloody. His blue eyes were grim, but he held her arms gently. "We cannot, Mairen. The battle still rages and we must get Haldir to safety. You need to get your brother to safety as well, and you must hurry. The elves are drawing back and you have little time."  
  
He set a hand on her shoulder. "A small wound it might seem, but to lose his sight means the injury is worse than you think. Perhaps Orophin can come back to him later, but for now you must understand that we have no choice." With a stern look, he set her back a step, then turned to assist Orophin once more. They picked up Haldir, carrying him quickly up the path that led toward the caves and relative safety.  
  
Mairen turned back toward the rampart, struggling with her anguish, and hurried back to her brother. In the hours that followed she half dragged, half carried a brother taller and heavier than she was without a second thought, the fear and adrenaline of battle giving her the will and strength to get him to safety. Finally aided by Renny, another brother, she arrived inside the glittering caves. Outside the battle continued to rage, and Mairen huddled close to Willem, watching Eowyn bandage his head with a numbing sense of despair. Unable to drag herself from the depths of her emotions, Mairen did not hear Eowyn's words of concern as she sat bleakly against the rocks, staring at the elves across the cavern where they hovered near Haldir.  
  
She had tempted fate and braved countless dangers to bring Haldir to safety, how could they not return the favor when she needed it? She couldn't understand, and yet at the same time she could, and knew her anger to be irrational. Eowyn's hand on her arm drew her attention, and she looked into the troubled eyes of the King's niece.  
  
"They would help if they could," she said kindly. "They have their own to consider."  
  
Mairen pulled her eyes away from the elves, and glanced at her brother, who slept fitfully. She sighed and brushed away a tendril of blond hair that lay across his bandaged brow. "They will not come," she replied, her voice low. "They will take their captain home to heal, and we will never see them again."  
  
She stood, glancing once more at the elves, and then strode quickly out of the caves into the Deep's halls now ringing with the cries of the victorious.  
  
Later, she sat on the edge of the rampart, staring down at the men whose task it was to gather the bodies of the dead. So many lives had been lost. Only a few elves remained, and those that did wandered the fortress with faces grim and mournful. But they had come, knowing full well their possible sacrifice. She was sure Haldir had known he might not return.  
  
Why had he done it? Had he returned her favor by leading the elves to Helm's Deep? Or was it an old alliance that brought him here? Or did he come merely out of duty, on orders from the Lady? She knew not. She only knew the battle today was over but not the war. Nay, the shadow still loomed darkly overhead.  
  
But what did the darkness portend? For her and her people? And what of the elves? Would she ever see Haldir again? 


	5. Paths

Chapter Five: Paths  
  
Haldir awoke, listening to the wind as it sighed through his window, carrying with it the lilting sound of an elvish melody that caressed his mind with its familiarity. It soothed him in its way, but it could not erase the memories that flooded his thoughts . . .  
  
The fleeting pain and anguish of when he had been struck from behind, followed by the horrible sense of despair as he'd stared at the fallen elves at his side . . . that interminable moment of his own fall while he struggled deep in his heart to know if once again his decisions had been sound . . . and then darkness . . . black, mind-reeling darkness . . .  
  
And then . . . light? It had grown in the desperate shadows of his mind, a tiny flicker that had summoned him, but not to the Halls of Waiting. No, it had been the light of Galadriel, shining out to him like a beacon in the night. She had stood there, strong and fair, calling him back, lifting away the despair that had tried to pull him down once more.  
  
Haldir, your decisions were sound and right. You are true to what the light signifies, true to your sense of honor. Come back, mellon nîn. Come back to the light. Come back . . .  
  
He blinked, the memory fading slowly, and noticed the sunlight that streamed through the window and the lines of the rafters that curved gracefully over his head. He rolled to his side to find both his brothers sitting beside him, waiting for him to wake.  
  
"How long?" he rasped, his voice hoarse.  
  
Rúmil leaned forward, brushing his fingers gently over Haldir's brow. "Too long, we thought. You have lain as if dead for nigh two weeks."  
  
Haldir closed his eyes. Two weeks? He lifted a hand to his brow, rubbing his temple to ease the ache. "How many returned?"  
  
Orophin leaned on the edge of the bed. "A question to be asked later. Right now you need only to rest and regain your strength and not dwell on those we lost. It was a choice we" —he stressed the pronoun— "all made. It is not your burden to bear."  
  
Haldir reopened his eyes, gazing at the two elves who held such a deep place in his heart. What would he do if he ever lost these two? They were more than brothers; they were a part of him, part of his life. He wanted to reach out and hug them, but found he had not the strength. Instead he smiled, earning smiles in return, then his eyes fluttered closed and he slept.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen pushed aside the pile of mail, yanking yet another bent and broken sword from the depths of the metal stack. She glared at it and threw it aside. Beside her, several more young boys searched for items still of use. The Rohirrim were set to march once more, this time to the Pelennor fields in aid of the realm of Gondor. With a sigh, Mairen threw another sword aside, wishing Willem were here by her side. However, her brother now sat on the ramparts, feeling the sun caressing his cheek, but never to see it again. She pushed away her despair and turned as a stern voice greeted her.  
  
She stepped back, bowing low before King Théoden as he stopped before her, his blue eyes studying her intensely.  
  
"Mairen, I see you are well. And your brother?"  
  
She glanced up, and gave a small smile. "As well as to be expected, my lord."  
  
He nodded and glanced around, and the young boys sorting the weapons quickly disappeared at a meaningful look from him. His gaze returned to Mairen. "I have some of the most loyal followers a king could ask," Théoden said quietly. He looked at her, tilting his head. "Do you not agree?"  
  
Mairen nodded. "Of course, sire. You are our King. I would expect nothing else."  
  
As if struggling with a decision, Théoden looked away. "I need all the warriors I can get, yet I cannot leave behind those who are injured and unable to follow without some kind of protection."  
  
Mairen's uneasiness flared into dread. "Sire?"  
  
The King turned to face her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You must stay behind, Mairen. Your brother needs you. And so do I. I need you to help guard those who must stay here."  
  
Mairen opened her mouth to argue, but closed it with a snap at the look in Théoden's eyes. She lowered her gaze bowing slightly. "As you wish, My Lord."  
  
Théoden gently grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I do this not because you are a woman, but because I know your strength. I can leave knowing they are as safe as I can make them." His hand moved to settle on her shoulder. "I have watched you since you were a child. I remember well the day you were born, Mairen. You fought hard to come forth; your mother had nearly no warning." His hand fell from her shoulder, but his gaze held hers. "The moment you were born an unusual thing happened. Did you mother ever tell you?"  
  
Mairen shook her head, a strange feeling washing over her.  
  
Théoden frowned slightly. "The night was stormy, a furious onslaught, with lightning that flashed with such intensity that you had to turn away. The ground shook when the thunder erupted, as if the Valar were angry and fighting. Your mother's cries were all but muffled by the raging tempest outside." He looked away for a moment and then held her gaze once more. "When you came forth, the room was lit by a brilliant flash, near blinding those present. Most thought only that the lightning had struck near, but the mid-wife spoke to me later."  
  
Mairen rubbed her forearms to warm away the chill that swept over her.  
  
To her surprise, Théoden took hold of her hands and squeezed them. "She told me the light was not from the lightning. She said it came from within the room at the very moment of your birth. She feared what it meant. She was a suspicious woman and would have left you in the wilderness had she the chance. But I came to visit and spoke of it with your mother. She too had seen that the light did not come from the storm, and feared what I might do." He smiled, his eyes distant as if remembering her as a child. "But when I held you Mairen, I had the overwhelming sense of your strength and determination. Even as a babe you resisted, fighting against odds that might have defeated you."  
  
Mairen bit her lip. "Why do you tell me this now, my lord?"  
  
Théoden's brows drew together, his blue eyes becoming hooded. "Because I do not feel you belong with us in this next battle, Mairen. Long have I felt that your destiny lies elsewhere, not with me, nor with the Rohirrim. I do not tell you this to hurt you, but to make you aware. You have always been a bit different. Your skills were enough to earn you a place among my best riders. You have led many of our women to become what they might never have become were it not for your example. I can count with pride the number who ride for me, for I could not deny you or them the chance to defend those you love." Again he turned away, facing to the side as he slid a hand through his hair, before looking back at her with narrowed eyes.  
  
"And now I tell you," he said, gripping her chin gently. "I know not why I feel this so strongly, only that it seems right. You will stay here, guard those that are injured, and wait. Word will be sent of the outcome of this battle, for there, on the plains of Pelennor, shall the world's future be decided." He stared into her eyes as if searching for answers to questions he had long pondered. "Whatever your destiny, it now leads you on a different path." He let go, and with a last lingering look, spun and walked from her, and Mairen stepped back, stumbling over a forgotten sword, and turned only to be brought up short by Eowyn.  
  
"Mairen. He is right, you know. You have been a inspiration to the women of Rohan."  
  
Mairen grimaced. "And what has that brought me now, Eowyn, but to be left behind? It is what I have fought against for half my life."  
  
Eowyn clutched her arm, pulling her into a nearby alcove. "I understand your frustration, for I live that feeling every day. At least you have been able to be free, and ride and fight alongside your brothers. I have never had that chance." Eowyn's eyes glittered with determination . . . and something else.  
  
"You are of royal blood, Eowyn. We have spoken of this before."  
  
Eowyn slid closer, her fingers tightening in a grip that was almost painful. They were of the same height, sandy-haired and slim, alike in build as well as temperament. "You have felt the thrill of valor," Eowyn said. "I heard how you took the elf back to his lands alone and unafraid! What I would give for such a chance to do such a great deed! I thought you of all people would understand."  
  
Mairen grasped Eowyn's forearms. "I understand what you wish, but it is not all valor and bravery. It is also pain and anguish, fear and death. And blood." She shuddered and looked away, fighting the tears that blurred her eyes, but Eowyn's hold forced her to turn back.  
  
"I can no longer stay behind. You must help me, Mairen! You have been ordered to stay. Let me go in your stead. Please."  
  
Mairen stifled a gasp. "If you are injured or killed I will be held forfeit. You cannot ask this."  
  
Eowyn's widened eyes held hers, her mouth thinned to a narrow, determined line. "I will not allow that. I will take responsibility for my actions. I will tell them whatever I must." She shook Mairen slightly. "Please!"  
  
Mairen debated within herself, recognizing much of herself in Eowyn. She studied the other woman and finally sighed. "My mail should fit you well."  
  
Eowyn's face lit with hope. "Indeed, and my clothes should also fit you. You will do this for me?"  
  
Mairen looked deep into Eowyn's eyes. "May the Valar forgive me, Eowyn, but I will do this."  
  
*~*  
  
Orophin carried the small tray up the last of the steps, only to stop in consternation when he found Haldir leaning against the wooden door of his talan, staring into the leafy canopy above his head. Admonishments that it was too soon to rise would be tossed aside by the restive patient and so Orophin simply set the tray beside Haldir and took a seat next to him.  
  
Even after only a month, Haldir stubbornly pushed his body, whether healing or fighting, to its limit. And none would or could gainsay him. So Orophin ignored his concerns and popped a large grape into his mouth, leaning back beside his brother to look into the shadowy darkness of mallyrn branches. "What do you see that so draws your gaze?" he asked.  
  
"I see leaves," Haldir grunted, then slanted an amused glance at his brother.  
  
Orophin nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Ah, leaves. I see."  
  
Haldir examined the food on the tray and picked up several grapes, staring at the crisp globes of fruit, the sheen of moisture that reflected the morning sun. "Indeed. Just as I see these grapes, and you, my brother. Things I thought I would never see again." He stared out across the trees, searching for the one talan that stood higher than his own. He had yet to see Galadriel. But he soon would.  
  
Orophin rested his wrists on his knees, tilting his head to study his brother. "I feared what I saw on that day. You lay as one dead and yet Mairen stood by you, torn between you and her brother . . . yet by your side did she stay. Twice she has been there when death loomed at your door, beckoning you to the Halls of Waiting. What pull does she have to hold you upon the threshold of mortal life here in Middle Earth? I do not see logic, nor any answers to my questions."  
  
Haldir plucked at the thin fabric of his leggings, not answering for a moment. He crossed his ankles and leaned back his head, staring once again at the leaves overhead as if they offered answers.  
  
"I do not know why the Valar have brought her to my side, not once but twice. But I sense she has some path to take that leads her to us, as if we are but a stepping-stone on her journey. Perhaps Galadriel will have some other sense, for we know that she studied the maid often while she was here, whether the Rohirrim realized it or not."  
  
Orophin smiled, popping another grape into his mouth and handing Haldir several more. "Aye, that is so. Rúmil says the maid looked favorably upon you, though he thought she fought against those feelings." He set the plate on Haldir's lap and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Haldir smiled, his glance meeting Orophin's for a moment. "I had that sense as well, and I fear I took advantage of her in that regard. It was perhaps unfair of me, and should I have the chance, I will apologize . . . although I do not think she minded as much as she believes." He sighed and gazed at the fruit in his hands, mulling his brother's words.  
  
Were their paths separate? Or would they converge once more sometime in the future? Orophin sat quiet as Haldir slowly ate, speaking aloud only of minor things though the question nagged at him still. He knew he would bring it to Galadriel's attention, for his heart realized he was not yet through with the female warrior. In plain truth, he hoped to see her again.  
  
*~*  
  
The musty stable smelled of horse, sweat and straw, a familiar and welcome tang that Mairen breathed in as she shoved open the door to Epona's stall. She sank her hands into the horse's mane, burying her forehead against the warm flank of the roan while the horse stood patiently, shifting only slightly as Mairen curled her fingers into the horse's coarse hair. Finally, with a sigh, she released Epona, sliding her hand along the horse's sides in a familiar caress that soothed her as much as the horse. She had missed Epona; they had not ridden for weeks, since returning to Edoras. How many more weeks would they have to wait for news from Minas Tirith?  
  
She picked up a brush and began to stroke the long mane, untangling knots from the long strands. Epona snorted softly and shifted again, pushing against Mairen as she worked silently. Only the sound of the brush moving over the horse's back broke the silence, Mairen's thoughts drifting with the monotony of her movements.  
  
She had not slept well since the Rohirrim warriors had left, leaving only the women, children, those injured or just too old to fight behind in the caverns of Helm's Deep. For a while they had stayed, then they had slowly made their way back into the city to await news of the war.  
  
Little news had come in. Weeks passed, weeks of waiting, weeks of worry for loved ones that kept most people silent and guarded. Feeling left behind, Mairen had moved among the people, sensing their despair. Each day she grew more edgy and frustrated. Something was happening; they could all sense the overwhelming darkness, feel the threatening shadows. Then suddenly, on a day like any other, the shadows fled. The sight of the fire in the sky drew people outside and the tremors shook the ground even there, high on the plateau, in Meduseld.  
  
What had happened?  
  
It took several more weeks to gain news. The war was over, the men had triumphed, and Aragorn had been acknowledged as king. Eomer was coming home soon, with Eowyn, but for now he waited while his sister recuperated from injuries, assisted by Aragorn's healing. Those tidings had given Mairen pause, that Eowyn had been hurt, yet she breathed a great sigh of relief that the king's niece had survived. She was fond of Eowyn.  
  
Mairen leaned against Epona's stall, reflecting on the prophecies of the King who would return to Gondor. Aragorn was a Dunédain and had lived many years among the elves in Rivendell and Lothlórien, so she wasn't surprised at his knowledge, or healing skill. Idly, she wondered if he might have been able to do anything for Willem, but pushed the thought away since it was now too late to speculate on what might have been.  
  
As if drawn by her thoughts, the doors to the stable were pulled open and Willem moved carefully inside, using a lance as a staff to feel his way. The area was usually well kept; still an unwary step might send him to his knees as he had found out only too many times before. He stopped, cocking his head to listen, and then turned toward where Mairen continued to brush Epona.  
  
"Looking for me?" she asked as he smiled and moved slowly toward her.  
  
"Aye, I was."  
  
Mairen set the brush back into its place and moved outside the stall as Willem sat down beside her on a bale of straw. He sighed and leaned back, resting his head against the wall.  
  
"What is it, Willem?"  
  
Willem turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes drawn toward her as if he could still see. "You have been avoiding me, Mairen. I did not mean to upset you when last we spoke, but I was frustrated by your hovering around me as if I were a child. I am blind, not ill, nor unable to look after myself."  
  
Seating herself beside him, Mairen patted his knee and laughing quietly in apology. "I am sorry, Willem. I do not mean to coddle you, and I see you are adjusting as well as you can. I only wish to be around if you need me."  
  
"I will call you if I need you," he said. "Epona is restless."  
  
Mairen glanced up; the horse was tossing her head and whickering softly. "I know. She feels my own frustration."  
  
"You've not been sleeping well. I sometimes hear you through the wall."  
  
She looked away; although Willem would not be able to see her expression, she knew he could sense it.  
  
"You don't have to stay," he pointed out.  
  
"Yes, I do. I was ordered to stay behind and so I have."  
  
"You read more into Théoden's orders than what he meant. You guard those of us who cannot fight, but your duties do not mean you must stay within the city. Renny has returned and patrols once more. Go with him, Mairen. Go with our brother."  
  
Mairen looked down at her feet, encased now in slippers, and at the dress she wore occasionally. She no longer had her mail, though she still had several tunics. But it felt odd to wear them without her armor. She plucked at the straw bale with her fingers. "I have no armor. Renny would not allow me to ride without it."  
  
Willem scowled. "That is an excuse. You will have to try again." He waited for her to say more, but she remained silent. "I don't want you to stay for me, Mairen. You grow quieter every day, your thoughts distant. You sleep little and eat less. What ails you? Is it your dreams? I hear you mutter and cry out, but you do not tell me what you dream."  
  
"I cannot. It matters naught," she whispered, unable to deny his accusations.  
  
Willem gripped her hand. "It does matter, for it is you who are ill, not in your body but in your heart. I say nothing to Renny, or Eamon. Rolfe will return with Eomer, and what then? Will you continue to play my nursemaid until you are old and feeble? That is not your path."  
  
Filled with sudden anger, Mairen surged to her feet. "Paths! Everyone thinks they know my path! My so-called destiny! How do you know this is not what Eru intends for me to do? I know what I must do and I am doing it."  
  
Willem laid his lance on the floor and placed hands on his knees. He seemed far calmer than she was. "Do you, Mairen? Are you so sure that I require you near me? I do not. And I think you are frightened because you know that is true. You know your place in this world is not here playing my nursemaid. Tell me otherwise and I will leave you alone."  
  
Mairen moved away a few steps, sliding a distracted hand through her hair, kicking the skirts out of her way with a curse. "I do not know what is my path, Willem, and yes, I am frightened. I was once so sure of my life, my calling to be a warrior. I still feel that is what I must do. But Théoden told me he has felt for many years that my path does not lie here with the Rohirrim, my own people! What would you say to that, Willem?" She leaned against an empty horse stall, one of the riders with Eomer, taking a deep breath to calm the wild beating of her heart.  
  
Clutching the staff-lance, Willem rose and moved to her side. "I don't know, Mairen," he said gently. "But perhaps back out on the plain your mind will clear and you will find some answers. Or at the very least, you'll gain some freedom. Please, go to Renny and tell him you will ride once more. Or I will tell him myself."  
  
Mairen slid her arms around Willem's waist and gave him a hug. "Very well, Willem. I will go to Renny, I promise, as long as you are certain you do not need me."  
  
Willem hugged her back. "What I need is for you to be the sister I once knew. And yet I fear you can never go back."  
  
*~*  
  
Orophin stared into the gray eyes of his brother, aware of their challenge, juggling his concern for Haldir's well-being with his desire to take advantage of his elder brother's momentary weakness. His choice was snatched from him when Haldir leaped forward, the razor-sharp tip of his sword sheering several inches of silver hair from Orophin's almost waist- length locks. Orophin lowered his blade, regarding the shorn edges of his hair with consternation.  
  
"I think that was unnecessary, Haldir!" he protested with indignation.  
  
Haldir shrugged, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. "You may find yourself looking more like a Rohan warrior than an elf if you do not focus on the task at hand." His sword flashed out once more, and another set of thin strands fluttered to the ground.  
  
"So the gauntlets are off!" Orophin shot back. "I try to take it easy on you and this is how you repay me. I warn you, brother, I no longer feel sorry for you."  
  
Haldir flicked his blade toward Orophin, who slapped it away with his own. "Sorry for me? Is that why you play at fighting with our swords? I thought you just had become neglectful of continuing your training."  
  
Orophin's eyes narrowed. He was aware Haldir was goading him, but still it irritated him. "Neglectful? My strokes are far keener than yours ever were. You only have more weight behind your blade." He ducked below Haldir's arm to whack his brother firmly on the backside with the flat of his sword-blade, arching his brows in amazement at being able to do so. "Score for me! You have become as slow and ungainly as the Rohirrim you mentioned. I shall have to take great care not to hurt you."  
  
Haldir leaped forward, and the two blades met with the crisp resonance of metal followed by the scraping hiss as they were drawn swiftly apart. "So you say, but I only allow you an edge as your mind wanders." He whirled, his elvish blade glittering in the morning sunlight to collide with a shoulder-wrenching clang against Orophin's.  
  
"My mind wanders?" Orophin snapped through gritted teeth. He slid his blade away from Haldir's and spun under the March Warden's next thrust. "Yours seems so far off of late that I fear you do not remain here in Lórien? Where do you go on your mindless travels?"  
  
Haldir grunted as they collided, blades locked between them, and he glared at his brother. "I stay firmly put in Lórien." They twisted apart, each spinning in opposite directions to clash together once more.  
  
"Hah!" Orophin choked, taking a step backward as he doubled over from the force of Haldir's elbow ramming into his stomach. Recovering quickly, he growled, "You fight like a mortal woman," and parried Haldir's next swing, slamming his blade against Haldir's to knock it aside.  
  
Haldir laughed, quickly adjusting his stance to avoid the wide arc of Orophin's next swing. His blade held in two hands, Haldir swept it outward, forcing Orophin to leap aside to avoid it.  
  
Orophin stumbled and Haldir moved in, his blade flickering as Orophin struggled to block it and regain his balance. He lost, earning him a large gash on his upper thigh, and he stood up, gripping the leg as the blood oozed from between his fingertips.  
  
"Oh, so the fight becomes serious now? No parley, no holding back?"  
  
Haldir shrugged. "I thought that was the intention all along, brother."  
  
With a sudden laugh, Orophin whirled, using his slim agility to gain advantage. Haldir was a better swordsman, but his injuries of the past year had slowed him a minute amount, enough for his brother, one of few who stood near the March Warden in skill, to press his luck. Orophin spun his sword, flipping it over between his hands to meet Haldir's blade with a resounding clang. They struggled for a moment, each trying to gain advantage, and then the blades slipped apart, spinning in a glittering whirl of metal to separate and reconnect with a ringing shudder.  
  
Orophin blinked, distracted for an instant by the dazzling sunlight glaring off Haldir's sword, and suddenly found himself on his back with the tip of Haldir's sword poised over him, held not near his throat, but once more over the fine strands of hair lying on his chest.  
  
"Shall I shear a few more locks from your head, or do you cry surrender?"  
  
Orophin dropped his blade and Haldir straightened, reaching down to pull Orophin to his feet.  
  
"Well done, Orophin. I truly thought you might best me for once."  
  
Orophin grinned, throwing an affectionate arm around Haldir's shoulder. "You know I let you win. I have to do my part to keep up your reputation."  
  
"You worry too much about my health. I tell you again I have healed and am the same as I always was." He strolled over to a bench near the wall and sat, leaning against the long sword between his knees.  
  
Orophin lifted the shorn locks of his hair, studying them with wry dismay. "So you say, but I see you differently. Your physical body may have healed, but your mind still lingers in a place none of us can go. Where is that, Haldir?"  
  
Haldir frowned, and when he looked up, his gray eyes were dark. "I fear my path yet turns once more, Orophin. I feel a sense of foreboding that I cannot explain."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen shifted on the hard ground, cursing the rock that lay embedded under her right shoulder as well as the one under her hip. Two blankets did not provide enough cushion for her thin body and she sighed, shifting again. The night was cold, the stars glittering overhead in a darkly frozen sky, wisps of white clouds now and then gliding over the moon to veil it for brief moments. The fire crackled beside her, warming half of her body while the other side remained chill. Cold and uncomfortable, she had not slept but for a few brief moments.  
  
She couldn't sleep. She hardly dared to close her eyes lest the thoughts that had hounded her throughout the day return. Even now, away from the city, she feared she had cried out in her sleep, and now lay breathing shallowly, wondering what she had said.  
  
She rolled over, curling her arm under her head, and looked across the fire to see Renny staring at her from his blankets, watching her. She must have woken him.  
  
She sighed and sat up. "I am sorry if I woke you."  
  
Renny pushed himself up, brushing his blond hair away from his eyes. Of her three brothers, he was the most handsome, his flashing brown eyes normally filled with teasing good humor. Except for now as he stared grimly at her from across the fire. "Nay, I have not slept, nor have you. You mutter quietly to yourself, though I think I am the only one who hears. How long have you had these dreams?"  
  
Mairen shrugged. "Too long."  
  
Renny frowned and rose gracefully. Towering over six feet, the Rohirrim warrior was solid, a broad-shouldered man easing past thirty. Lines she had never noticed until this past week wrinkled the corners of his eyes, and his mouth had narrowed to a thin line of worry. Renny never worried about anything.  
  
He moved around the fire and bent down, hauling Mairen to her feet. "Come with me."  
  
They moved away from the warmth of the fire and the other sleeping warriors. Renny signaled the sentinel on guard, and they moved past the rocky promontory, further into the grassy plain, and finally to a low stone that erupted from the earth. Mairen's brother pulled her down to sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder.  
  
"Willem told me you've not been sleeping well, but I did not think he meant every night. You hardly sleep at all, Mairen. You cannot go on like this."  
  
She leaned her arms on her knees, tucking in her chin to conserve heat. She had borrowed Willem's mail but it was too large for her, and it held little warmth. "I cannot sleep," she said quietly.  
  
Renny slid an arm around her, pulling her tight against him, and she relished the bit of warmth he gave her. He said nothing, but fished in his pocket, and a moment later pulled out a small stone, worn smooth from years of handling, and handed it to her.  
  
Mairen took the stone, staring at the flecks of gray color in the moonlight, the bits of quartz glittering in her palm. "What is it? It is so smooth."  
  
Renny chuckled, taking the stone and holding it up. "Smooth from years of touching. It is called a worry stone and was given to me long ago by our father. For some reason he felt I should have it. I have carried it near me since then, and whenever I feel concern, I touch the stone and it seems to calm my fears and ease my heart."  
  
Mairen stared in surprise, and Renny dropped the stone into her hand, curling her fingers over the smooth rock. In moments it seemed to warm, and the heat tingled her skin, and she felt a lightness sweep over her heart. She opened her hand to stare at the stone.  
  
"Does it work?" she asked.  
  
Renny grinned. "Do you ever see me worry?" He gazed out over the plain. "I think you need it more than I do, Mairen. I know not if it will help you, but at least I can offer you something to ease your mind, and perhaps I can take on some of your worry." His gaze swung back to hers. "Can you tell me about it?"  
  
Mairen gripped the stone, but shook her head.  
  
Renny sighed. "As Willem predicted. I do not know why you hide it, but whatever it is that eats at you will come out eventually." He rose, pulling her again to her feet. "Try to rest. We head back to Edoras soon." Under the light of the moon, she saw him smile, but the dim light hid the lines around his mouth as he started to turn away. Then he paused and looked at her once more, a curious expression on his face.  
  
"It has been a long while since I heard the language of the elves," he said, "but it is unmistakable. These words you mutter in your sleep . . . I know them not. You must have learned them in Lothlórien." He gazed at her for a moment, and then turned away, heading back up the hill in the direction of the fire.  
  
Mairen followed behind. 


	6. It Begins

Title: Mairen – A Life Once Lost Author: Fianna Betas: Julie, Anoriell, Jen, Char Rating: R Warnings: - in this chapter.... Minor battle violence, Anger management problems... some violence towards elves. Takes leaping strides away from canon... bad humor.... Minor character flaws .... Large amounts of confusion.  
  
Note: I have taken creative license in using the word Rohirran... upon research and much discussion, I have found no word that refers to a single Rohan person, and all other suggestions do not work for me, so I have created my own term... I apologize to any in advance that finds this irritable... and also to Julie who is determined to change it to Rohirrim, using that term as both plural and singular...  
  
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the right to all LOTR characters and I use them with great admiration, and with a conscious attempt to keep them in character. I do not receive any rewards from writing other than my own satisfaction of elaborating on a story dear to my heart.  
  
Chapter Six: It Begins...  
  
The day dawned warm. Summer had finally come, melting away a spring fraught with more than just cold weather, but also grief and despair. Yet beneath all that, hope remained, steadfast and solid as the Rohirrim patrol that pounded up the steep incline into Edoras, cantering thru the wooden portal into the city to rein in amid a cacophony of noise that grated on Mairen's nerves as she dismounted.  
  
The stable yard was a confusing mix of horses, men, women, dogs and a myriad of other assorted flock and fowl and those who had been away far too long were greeted with cries of joy and or grief, depending on what news others thought to bring them. Mairen's patrol had returned in the midst of a reunion, and she now stood among men she had thought dead or worse. She pulled Epona to the side of the stable yard, avoiding a large goat that wandered aimlessly.  
  
Too many, though, did not return and Mairen scanned the warriors she could see, making note of who had not. A deep sense of sorrow swept over her and she turned to find Renny, but could not see him in the confusion. She frowned, tying Epona to the rail, and pushed her way through the crowd toward where Eomer stood on the steps of Meduseld. Eowyn stood for a moment behind him, her fair blond hair shining in the sunlight, her face wreathed in smiles at their welcome, and then she ran up the steps into the great hall. Mairen gave a soft sigh of relief that Eowyn had returned and moved closer.  
  
Eomer was grinning, responding to questions and accepting the many welcoming words, but she could see the weight that rested now on his shoulders. Replacing King Théoden would not be an easy task. Already she could see signs of his responsibilities in his manner and she felt a brief sense of sadness at the changes. Eomer had treated her like one of her brothers, a companion rider; but what now? She only knew that her grief of losing their King had to be put aside; paths had changed, life moved on. She strode closer, hoping to ask for news of Rolfe for she had not been able to find him.  
  
Her eldest brother waylaid her a few steps from Eomer, whirling her around to encase her in a great hug, a rare instance of affection. Rolfe set her back on her feet, staring at her armor with amusement.  
  
"I fear you have shrunk, sister. This armor looks far too large for your slight frame."  
  
Mairen grinned, staring up at the tall Rohirran in affection. "I have not. 'Tis Willem's armor. I have been riding with Renny this past fortnight."  
  
Rolfe wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Renny approached, grasping Rolfe's outstretched hand. "Willem's eh? Well I am not surprised. I did not think you would sit too long by his side."  
  
Renny chuckled, raising long blond brows in humor. "She would have stayed but for Willem's entreaties for her to ride with me. I fear her coddling was nigh driving our brother mad with irritation." He ignored Mairen's dark scowl.  
  
Rolfe laughed. "I can imagine! Eomer has been driven to distraction by Eowyn since we left, hardly leaving his side, and speaks only of Faramir." He shook his head in bemusement and glanced at Mairen. "I fear I shall never allow you to fall in love, Mairen, if I have to listen to such things as Eowyn spoke of on our return home. I swear if I hear more about his eyes or anything else I will seek the plains and never return."  
  
Mairen frowned, doubtful of Rolfe's sincerity, and turned when Eomer shouted a greeting to Renny from above them on the steps. The Rohirran King grinned and began to make his way toward them. Mairen drew back as his gaze locked on her. He seemed to focus in on her alone, and she grew wary, a sense of unease stealing through her as he approached.  
  
"Mairen! It is well to see you!" Eomer gripped her shoulders, and smiled, his twinkling gaze sweeping over her.  
  
Mairen lowered her eyes for a moment, bowing her head in respect. "Greetings, my lord. It is well to see you returned."  
  
Eomer released her, and reaching out to shake Renny's outstretched hand. "You have just returned from patrol? And the news?" Renny relayed what tidings they had, and the King's eyes returned to Mairen. "A long patrol. You must be glad to be back. It will give you time to rest. You look weary, Mairen."  
  
Mairen glanced at Renny, and shook her head. "I am well, my Lord. The trip was not long."  
  
Eomer shook his head, grasping her shoulder in a tight hold, renewing her sense of unease. "I do not agree. In fact, I think you must stay in the city, for I need someone to guard my sister. Now that we have returned, I have more pressing things to do."  
  
Mairen's eyes widened. "My lord? I do not think Eowyn needs a guard here in Edoras?"  
  
Eomer turned to her, his brown eyes narrowing slightly and he stared at her for the briefest of moments. "I disagree. Do you wish to argue the point?"  
  
Mairen hastily shook her head. "Of course not, if that is what you command, Lord Eomer."  
  
Eomer's chin rose and then he smiled, easing the seriousness from his face. "That is well then. I shall expect you to become her shadow until the time of Faramir's arrival here." He winked and turned to ascend the steps into Meduseld with his retainers.  
  
Mairen watched them disappear with a sigh.  
  
*~*  
Eowyn sat on her bed, staring at the piles of gowns with a blank expression, surrounded by a bevy of servants nervously waiting for her orders. Mairen stood near the door, posted once again as Eowyn's guard. She knew it was Eomer's attempt to keep his sister out of his way that had put her here, but the resulting weeks had seemed endless. Mairen glanced out the window, squinting against the bright sunlight and stared longingly at the blue skies above her. She sighed softly to herself, but Eowyn heard her and turned around.  
  
"You can stop wishing you were out riding patrol, Mairen. Eomer will not give you leave to go." She smiled, pulling a heavy gown over her lap to stare at the ceiling again in distraction.  
  
Mairen rolled her eyes. "I only wish that you would decide which gown you will wear and free these poor seamstresses to do their work. You cannot focus for more than a minute on the task at hand. Morgoth's balls! I hope I am never held in such sway by a man." She laughed as Eowyn slanted her a sheepish look.  
  
"Am I that bad?"  
  
Mairen folded her arms to lean against the wall. "Aye, horrible." She grinned wickedly, and Eowyn tossed the dress on the bed.  
  
"Well, I cannot help it, so you must tell me something to take my mind off him." She pulled Mairen further into the room, pushing her to sit on the bed.  
  
"Eowyn, I have nothing to tell. I ride days on end with thirty loud, belching, crass Rohirrim men. What is there to say?"  
  
Eowyn's brows rose high. "Indeed?"  
  
Mairen smiled. "Nay, there is nothing," she insisted. "They are all annoying bullies and see me as no different from themselves."  
  
Eowyn shook her head in disbelief. "So you may think, Mairen, but I have seen several look at you with interest, but you pass them over as if they were Willem or Rolfe."  
  
Mairen rose off the bed, her fingers instinctively brushing the hilt of the sword at her hip. "Indeed, I have seen their gaze. They can look all they like, but I will not acknowledge them. The first time I do so will be my last day on the march."  
  
Eowyn swung around; she had walked to the bed, and had been sorting dresses again. "Mairen, that is not true. Eomer thinks highly of you, as did Uncle Théoden. If you were to love another rider it would not mean for you to stop being a rider yourself!"  
  
Mairen walked to the window, shielding her eyes from Eowyn's gaze. "Are you so sure? Is not their first intent to father a child? And then where would I be? No, I fear such a life is not for me, Eowyn. I refuse to accept that role."  
  
Eowyn threw the dress on the bed and stalked over to Mairen, pulling her around to face her. "You are not serious."  
  
"I am."  
  
Eowyn stood back, studying Mairen curiously. "I don't believe you, Mairen. But we shall see. Did you know Eomer has met someone as well?"  
  
Mairen frowned. "Nay, I have not heard much news. I rode patrol with my brother Renny, and then was sent here to ahem... guard you."  
  
Eowyn shook her head in amusement, "Aye, guard me." She laughed. "Anyway, I shall tell you. Eomer met the daughter of Imrahil from Dol Amroth. He is a handsome man and his daughter is very beautiful. I think Eomer was smitten at first sight." She moved back to the bed, piling several dresses in her arms and handed them over to the seamstress. "Indeed, before the year is up they plan to wed."  
  
Mairen said nothing and Eowyn turned to her. "Does that not surprise you?"  
  
"It is their choice, I am sure children will soon follow."  
  
Eowyn snorted, holding up the dress she had finally chosen to inspect it one last time, plucking at some of the stitching. "I think you have a preoccupation about childbirth. Do you not want children? Truly?" She glanced at Mairen with a questioning gaze."  
  
Mairen shook her head. "I have not felt that desire."  
  
Eowyn tossed the dress back on the bed. "Tell me you have never desired anyone, Rohirrim... or otherwise," she added.  
  
"What do you mean or otherwise?" Mairen asked uneasily, for those words brought back a memory that was her own, one she had tried hard to forget.  
  
Eowyn smiled wickedly, moving to circle Mairen who stared back nervously. "Or otherwise. Don't be obtuse. You know what I mean. I think you have hidden something from everyone, except maybe Willem." She stepped back folding her arms over her chest. "I shall have to ask him."  
  
Mairen frowned. "Ask him then. He knows nothing."  
  
Eowyn laughed at her answer. "So! There is something then?"  
  
Mairen sighed, caught firmly in Eowyn's trap. "Perhaps I met someone ... interesting."  
  
"Interesting? I think it more than that. Your cheeks are flushing even as you say it."  
  
Mairen bit her lip, unwilling to voice the heated attraction she had felt for Haldir. Eowyn continued to circle her, tapping her lips as she studied Mairen.  
  
"You don't want to speak of it, I can see that. So you are embarrassed or totally overwhelmed. Who can it be? We've seen so many new faces in the past year," she paused. "Was it Aragorn? He is wed now to the Lady Arwen." She watched Mairen's expression and shook her head. "Nay not he. Oh! I know... it must have been the dwarf, Gimli!"  
  
Mairen's eyes widened in horror. "That is disgusting."  
  
Eowyn laughed merrily. "He is not so bad once you are acquainted with him." She paced a few steps and then eyed Mairen again. "Perhaps the elf, Legolas?"  
  
Mairen stared straight ahead, hoping Eowyn hadn't noticed her slight flinch when she'd thought that Eowyn meant to say someone else. Eowyn's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Ah, no comment! So I think not Legolas, for you flush but your eyes remain steadfast. So that tells me if must be an elf, for it is the only thing you've reacted to." She moved to stand before Mairen. "Are you going to make me drag it out of you, or will you confess? I can bring in reinforcements!"  
  
Mairen knew she was lost. "I will tell you, but you must not utter a word to anyone else or I will throttle you."  
  
Eowyn grinned, unperturbed by Mairen's useless threat and waited, lifting a slim brow.  
  
Mairen took a deep breath. "It is an elf. I thought him most handsome ... and desirable. But that is far as it goes, Eowyn. There is nothing more to tell." She spun and went to the window.  
  
Eowyn waited for Mairen to continue. At Mairen's silence she prodded softly, "And his name?"  
  
Mairen stared at the glass, seeing only the face that continued to haunt her dreams, whether waking or not. "It is Haldir. And I will say no more."  
  
"You do aim high! Haldir, the March Warden of Lothlórien." Surprise entered Eowyn's voice. "He is the one you carried back to the Golden Wood, is he not? Tell me what happened?"  
  
"Nothing." Mairen said rather gruffly, to Eowyn's evident amusement.  
  
Eowyn moved behind Mairen. "Liar," she said softly.  
  
Mairen struggled to find a way out of the conversation. She had just turned to speak when the door was flung open and Eomer stepped inside, followed by Rolfe, Gamling and several other of the King's attendants.  
  
"You are not even dressed yet?" Eomer stated teasingly. "What have you been doing? Gossiping it seems!"  
  
The King winked at Maire, then turned his attention to Eowyn, who waltzed over to him with a dress in her hand. "Nay, just talking with Mairen. I have been hounding her about dress choices and she has been gracious enough to help me choose." She lifted the dress to show Eomer. "I shall be ready soon, have no fear."  
  
Eomer sent Mairen an amused glance. "Indeed, I hope that is true, for I have news that Lothíriel rides over the border. She will be here in a few hours and I wish you to be there to greet her."  
  
Eowyn nodded, "Of course, I would not think otherwise, for she comes with Faramir as well. He rides as guard, and I know she is well protected."  
  
With a laugh Eomer pulled out a chair and sat. It creaked loudly at his weight but he ignored it. "An amusing sentiment, sister. You think Faramir a skilled warrior then?"  
  
Eowyn thumped Eomer's shoulder. "I do, as you well know."  
  
Eomer grinned, and rose with a sigh. "As I do. I am thankful you draw his heart here. The night is yet long, the hours pass too slowly, and I have come to seek a way to take my mind off my wait. What conversation do you speak that would bring such color to Mairen's cheeks? If I am not mistaken, she looked quite flustered when I entered." His piercing gaze settled on Mairen's face.  
  
Mairen drew back, scowling as all eyes turned toward her.  
  
Eowyn smiled, and bent close to whisper into Eomer's ear.  
  
*~*  
  
Galadriel moved into the shadows, walking slowly among the rock littered path, away from her city, away from the lights that lit the treetops aglow in the dark evening shadows. She glided carefully, avoiding the tiny pitfalls, stepping over the rocks with feet bare, and silent.  
  
But not so silent that Haldir did not hear. He stood, shielded by the shadow of the large Mallorn tree under which he had been sitting. When Galadriel reached him and he bowed low and touched his heart.  
  
"Haldir," Galadriel addressed him.  
  
"My Lady?" Haldir replied. He moved to her side, and walked with her further along the path.  
  
Galadriel did not speak but continued along the path, taking them farther from the city. She turned as they approached one of the many small streams that ran below Caras Galadhon, the tinkling sound of the water as it bubbled over the rock lined basin growing louder as they neared. She bent down to pick up a small stone that glittered in her palm, gazing at the tiny rock.  
  
"I told someone once that even the smallest person could change the course of the world," she drawled slowly, her voice mysterious and soft. "And as I look upon this stone I know that should I toss it into the small stream at my feet, so shall the course of that water be changed, there in changing the water's path as it flows toward the sea, ne'r to be the same." She stared at the rock and then turned to Haldir, her sapphire eyes glowing with a magical light that made them gleam in the near darkness.  
  
"And who is such a stone that the paths of the world may yet be changed?" Haldir asked, taking the stone from her hand and gripping it gently between his fingers.  
  
"I cannot be certain, but I have a sense that it was not mere coincidence that the Rohirrim were close at hand when you needed aid." She tilted her head to look up at the stars that were now visible overhead, and then her unfathomable eyes returned to Haldir's face. "Do you know of what I speak?"  
  
Haldir frowned, curling his fingers over the stone, and met Galadriel's stare. "It does seem a narrow twist of fate that she heard the battle. A rare event in itself, and yet she did. And had she not, I would have perished."  
  
Galadriel moved closer to the stream to sit slowly on a large rock; Haldir did not move but only watched the Lady closely. "I knew something was wrong. I despaired at your peril, but when she appeared to me in my mirror, a tiny glimpse of hope replaced that despair and turned it into joy.  
  
At the time I thought it a mere whim of fate, yet now I wonder."  
  
Haldir bounced the rock in his palm. "We do not know what lies in our future. Only the Valar, and I am not always certain they know either. They often seem fickle in their desires."  
  
Galadriel looked out over the flowing water, leaning over to trail her fingers into the swiftly moving stream. "Perhaps. But for what reasons?" Did they wish to aid you in your peril or did they wish your paths to cross with Mairen? As she aided you, did they wish for you to aid her in return? We have spoken of this before, and my mind cannot let go of a nagging sense of something more to come. I know not what it is."  
  
Haldir gripped the stone, and crouched down near the bank of the stream. "Your mirror does not tell?"  
  
"My mirror is fading. My powers to hold at bay this new age wan. I fear to trust what it says, for soon it will tell me nothing."  
  
Haldir frowned, glancing at the elven ruler who had so long controlled the world around them. "When the west calls to you, will you hear it?"  
  
Galadriel smiled, a slight lift of her lips that hinted at sadness. "It called long ago, Haldir, and soon I shall answer. But the world still lies before us, and those paths of which we speak."  
  
Haldir waited for her to continue.  
  
"I am not the only one whose interest lies in the young Rohirran warrior. Rúmil has spoken to me, as well as Orophin. Even Lord Celeborn feels your paths lie closely tied together."  
  
Haldir looked over the stream into the darkness beyond. "I do not know what it portends. All I know is my thoughts turn to her often."  
  
Galadriel sighed. "I fear we have not been near her enough to know what we must do." She stood up gracefully, followed smoothly by Haldir. "Eomer has been betrothed to the Lady Lothíriel and will wed her soon. The lady travels this day to Edoras, with Faramir of Gondor, to stay in Meduseld until the day of her wedding, along with her father. I would send our regards to the new King of Rohan, and at the same time, offer you the chance to renew your acquaintance with Mairen. Perhaps we shall learn more of what our fate decrees."  
  
Haldir touched his forehead, bowing slightly, stepping back to allow the Lady to pass before him. She moved ahead and he paused for a moment to stare at the small stone in his hand, before tossing it back into the roiling stream.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen sat up, trembling with the overwhelming sense she was in danger, then flew to her feet, drawing her sword from where it rested beside her bed. She waited in the dark shadows of the night, listening, but only silence surrounded her- silence and her own harsh breathing.  
  
What had woken her? Relaxing slightly she moved toward the window, pulling aside the thin curtain to stare outside. The moon lay full, illuminating the street. She laid the sword against the wall and opened the window, throwing the two panes wide as she leaned out into the crisp air. For once the air was still, a rarity in Edoras, for the winds blew fierce on their mountaintop. But tonight everything lay eerily quiet. She didn't like it.  
  
She picked up the sword and returned to her bed, resting it alongside her as she lay down on top of her blankets, uneasiness still making her nerves tremble. What had woken her? She sighed, closing her eyes and the image flashed back into her head with such glaring intensity that she gasped in pain.  
  
It seared her mind, the image of the elves so vivid she covered her eyes with her hand, leaning on her side as a deep sense of despair and anguish flooded into her mind, the battle that raged in what seemed to be a memory blotting out all other thought. It was gone in an instant, but to Mairen it felt like hours, fighting alongside elves she felt she knew, and loved, and feared for. The feelings were so strong she felt nauseated and sat up, clutching her stomach. This was the third time this month. She didn't understand. And she was beginning to fear what it might mean.  
  
She moved to the window and slid down to sit below it, hidden in the shadows. What was happening? Although it was summer, the nights were chill and she shivered, clasping her arms tightly around her knees. She fumbled in a pocket and pulled out the small stone Renny had given her. She gripped it tightly, pressing the smoothness against her forehead in despair. Please make them stop! She struggled to force away the thoughts. The battle was unfamiliar, not of Helm's Deep or any other that she knew.  
  
Nay it seemed old, ancient, the elves different, their armor none that she had ever seen. She leaned her forehead on her knees, fighting the tremors that still swept over her, the fatigue that dragged at her arms. She had not fought in this battle. Why was it now so embedded into her mind?  
  
*~*  
"Celeborn? Celeborn, are you ill?"  
  
Celeborn flinched, raising his gaze to Galadriel as she leaned over him, her blue eyes filled with concern. He blinked and lowered the goblet in his hand to his lap, having frozen lifting it to his mouth to drink. "I just had an odd thought leap into my mind."  
  
Galadriel straightened, sliding a hand over his shoulder as he stared straight ahead, his mind still not fully with her. "And what is this thought? You dropped your book."  
  
Celeborn reached down to retrieve the small book that had fallen from his lap, and set both the goblet and book on the table next to him. He rose, sliding his hands into his sleeves, still focused on his thoughts. He moved slowly, and Galadriel followed him, watching her husband as his brows furrowed in concentration.  
  
He turned finally to her, and frowned, the lines marring the smooth expanse of his face. "I heard Mairen's thoughts as if I could read her mind, as only you can. Even as far away as she must be, I felt her despair as if it were my own. She is frightened, Galadriel. I do not know why I suddenly sensed some of her thoughts, but for a brief moment we were connected."  
  
Galadriel moved next to him, sliding her arm inside his. "It is a sign. Since we met I sensed that as we needed her, she too would need us. I do not know why, but I found it disturbing."  
  
Celeborn rested his hand over hers. "Indeed, a sense I had as well. Perhaps when I healed her we gained some minute connection, I know not. But I know only that she is ill equipped to deal with whatever frightens her, so that leads me to believe it is no battle she faces."  
  
Galadriel looked up at him. "A physical battle, no... but I wonder if perhaps one within her mind?"  
  
They sat down on a bench, and Galadriel sighed. "I had wondered if sending Haldir to Edoras would be a good decision, but I think now he must ride quickly. I have a feeling events are already unfolding."  
  
*~*  
  
The day grew late; the setting sun hovered over the mountains to the west of Edoras, pulling the elves toward the lofty city with rays of gold- filtered light. Haldir rode; a rarity for the Lorién elves, but the horse was a gift to the Horse Lord. Behind him Rúmil and Orophin followed, along with four more of his wardens, all of them on horseback.  
  
They galloped over the last rise and then halted before the steep hill leading up into the city. Haldir drew back on the reins of the near white stallion beneath him, and the horse whickered, impatient to continue his journey, aware as such beasts were, of food and shelter ahead.  
  
Rúmil moved to Haldir's side, leaning over the pommel of his heavily carved saddle. "The day grows late, and our weather holds for only a moment."  
  
Haldir glanced at his brother. "Aye. I fear you are as impatient as my steed." He smiled at Rúmil's shrug, but urged his horse forward. They rode across the lower valley riddled with muddy patches from a recent rain shower while hoping to avoid the ones which loomed on the horizon.  
  
The gates opened, the guards recognizing the elves, and they cantered through the wooden portal, ducking slightly the low doorway. They rode into the city, pulling men and women alike from house and croft to view the rare event of elves within Edoras.  
  
Haldir dismounted in a flutter of cloak, landing on light feet before the gilded hall of the King. Two men hurried down the wide steps toward him and he waited, holding the reins of the stallion that pranced nervously beside him.  
  
"My lord, a pleasure to greet those of Lorién." Gamling said quickly, eyeing the elves with surprise and a bit of awe. He bowed as Haldir bent his head slightly.  
  
"We come bearing the regard of the Lady of Light and Lord Celeborn for the King Eomer and his wife-to-be." Haldir straightened and held out the reins of the horse. ""We also bear a gift."  
  
Gamling's eyes widened. "A fair gift, my lord. I shall take you to Lord Eomer in all haste. He shall be honored by such wishes." The Rohirran captain bowed, waving Haldir forward up the steps. Haldir nodded and began to climb, the folds of his cloak rippling in the wind, followed closely by the others except Rúmil who waited behind, holding the stallion's reins.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen shoved the hand away that attempted to rest on her shoulder, the fingers seeming to have a mind of their own. She turned to the hand's owner, only to see he was once again drowning his face in the large mug of ale held in his other hand. She snorted softly, ducking away from him to sit with irritation at the table next to Willem. Unfortunately, her admirer had similar thoughts and plopped down next to her, shoving her tightly against her brother.  
  
"If he doesn't move in the next few moments, I will cut off that hand that dares touch me again." She snapped at Willem, glaring at the wretch from the corner of her eye. Willem laughed, wrapping an arm around her back to pull her closer yet.  
  
"It's the dress, Mairen! For although I cannot see you, the words I hear are all of amazement, I think we've forgotten you are a woman!" he chuckled, ignoring her snort, and squeezed her tightly.  
  
"Aye, and a bad choice it was for me to acquiesce to Eowyn's insistence that I dress formally." Mairen muttered, glancing at Willem who stared at her, his eyes perhaps not able to see, but still riveting nonetheless. "I wish now I had not. If I had my sword at my side, perhaps then they would leave me be."  
  
The Rohirran beside her, ignorant of her growing annoyance, thought to follow Willem's lead and attempted to throw his arm over her shoulder. It was to loud peals of laughter and his own annoyance that he found a sharp elbow shoved into his stomach and his feet pulled from beneath him, so that he fell back with a crash, spilling his ale. He stared in shock at the crowd of laughing faces above him.  
  
Willem stood up, moving beside Mairen as the man struggled to his feet, her brother's face stern with challenge, and the man glared at Mairen but moved away, patted consolingly on the back by a few others. Mairen turned back to the table with a sigh as Willem sat back down.  
  
"I may not be able to see, but I can still scare them away." He laughed, taking another long swig of his ale. Mairen peered into his cup, what was left wouldn't quench the thirst of a mouse, let alone her brother. She called for more ale. The room was loud with laughter, the tables full of merriment and good cheer for Eomer sat at the far table, hand in hand with his bride to be, a wide smile of contentment wreathing his face.  
  
A few moments later, Mairen nudged Willem to gain his attention. "I think Eomer's face will be sore from grinning," she said with a laugh.  
  
"Ah, but if the maid is as fair as they say, I doubt that smile will fade anytime soon." Willem chuckled, waving the mug in front of him, but not toward the object of his words. He belched, and Mairen sighed, standing up from the table.  
  
"Don't go, Mairen. I care naught for the banter of this table, but none will lead me to another. I need you."  
  
Mairen pushed away the large hand on her hip, but Willem only curled it around her waist. "You need to stop drinking or you won't need to go anywhere but under the table."  
  
Willem chuckled and let go. "Nay, I can drink far more than this, dear sister. He bent to take another drink when the doors opened before them, allowing the cool of the night breeze to rush in, flickering the torch flames and stirring the fire in the center of the hall. Voices grew quiet as Gamling thrust wide the doors, and marched in followed slowly by the elves.  
  
Mairen stiffened, gripping the edge of the table with trembling fingers as she stood, completely unaware of her gasp of surprise, or of the violent tremor that ran through her body. Willem felt it and stood slowly bedside her, clasping a firm hand on her shoulder, his sightless eyes drawn unerringly toward the elves.  
  
Eomer looked up, his eyebrows rising in surprise as the doors opened, his conversation to his lady halted by the elves' approach. Gamling bowed, and stepped aside.  
  
"The elves of Lothlórien, My Lord." He announced, waving Haldir forward.  
  
Eomer rose and moved off the platform holding his throne. Haldir bowed at the waist, and then straightened to grip the hand Eomer held out to him.  
  
"Mae Govannen, King Eomer, son of Théodwyn, I bring blessings and well wishes from the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn on your upcoming marriage." Haldir straightened and turned around, glancing at the door, and turned back to the King. "I have also brought a gift." He turned, waving gracefully toward the still open doorway and through it came the beautiful stallion, held securely by Rúmil as he pulled the prancing horse into the smoke filled hall.  
  
Eomer's eyes widened, and then he smiled, slapping Haldir on the back as he moved past the elves to examine the stallion. He gripped the horse's bridle while smoothing a hand over the hair at the stallion's forehead. "A fine gift from such honored elves. I cannot relay my sincere thanks well enough!" Eomer laughed, handing the reins to Gamling, who pulled the horse outside.  
  
"I have heard you like to make grand entrances, Haldir." He remarked, referring to that other entrance at Helm's Deep. "And as before we welcome you with open arms. Come and join in the festivities! Tell us of the news of elves." He guided Haldir forward to his table and the elves were welcomed by cheer and tankard alike.  
  
Becoming aware of her trembling, Mairen could only stare as she sat down, gripping the handle of her mug with extra firmness. Willem sat down beside her.  
  
"You tremble, Mairen. It is he again, is it not? I fear my memories at Helm's Deep were at fault for is he not the one you took back to Lorien?"  
  
Mairen glanced warily at her brother. He sat, his head tilted sharply, waiting for her answer. "Aye, it is he," she admitted.  
  
Willem frowned. "You never told me what happened in that time, and I wonder now what did?"  
  
Mairen took a long swallow of her ale, her gaze dragged back to the elves near Eomer. She did not answer, only stared at the group, her eyes drinking in the one she never thought to see again.  
  
He stood equal in height to Eomer, his frame as broad in shoulder and chest, but the elf held a delicate refinement, one of smoothness and grace that the Rohirran did not possess. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the King, accepting the mug of ale pushed into his hands with a slight curl of his lip and the subtle flicker of an eye toward his brothers. Rúmil and Orophin stood to the side and at his glance moved away into the crowd. Mairen's eyes narrowed, and she watched Haldir closely.  
  
He was dressed in a tunic of bronze that wrapped around his body, the tall collar framing his chin and embroidered in fine detail. His cloak was the color-changing green cloth of the warden's, decorated along the edges with intricate swirls in a gilded ivy design. Haldir sipped the ale with a slight grimace, and then smiled at Eowyn when she traded him a glass of wine. Mairen gripped her own mug at that smile and closed her eyes for a moment.  
  
It was a mistake, for in her mind the darkness grew. Familiar now with the sensation of the oncoming memories she opened her eyes only to fix them upon Haldir and his tunic, the design of his cloak drawing her attention, pulling the memory that was not hers from deep within her mind. She stared at the design, so beautiful, intricate and so familiar...  
  
She stood up, clutching her head, knocking over her ale as she pushed away from the table. Willem's hand dragged at her waist, but she avoided his grasp, stumbling back into the crowded room, her vision growing darker, filled with scenes she had never witnessed.  
  
The shouting was not of the hall of Meduseld, but of a war-ridden plain, dark with fires of ash and smoke, stinking of death and despair. She stumbled, holding the long bladed sword with arms that ached from long use, desperate to avenge the lives so lost, rushing back into the tide of warriors screaming for revenge.  
  
Mairen staggered, drawing concerned gazes toward her, falling against the earlier admirer, knocking his ale once more onto his chest.  
  
Angry at the double insult, the Rohirran flung out his arm, knocking Mairen backwards into the crowd now gathered, drawing angry shouts from around her, but she heard nothing. She clutched her temple, the pain of the memory slashing into her mind like a sharp knife. She staggered back, forcing the crowd of onlookers aside as she gasped in pain and then fell toward the fire that burned merrily in the center of the hall.  
  
She felt the flare of heat as the one in her memory felt the fire of the land around her, burning her eyes, her hair. She could smell the bitter aroma of flesh and burning hair...and then she was pulled roughly against a solid chest, wrapped in arms that lifted her off her feet, the smell of the forest wiping away the pungent odors of her memory and she let go, falling back into the arms in delirium.  
  
Haldir cradled the unconscious Rohirran, lifting her safely away from the fire that still smoldered the long sandy hair hanging over his arm. His icy glare challenged any to deny him his burden and the crowd parted as Eomer thrust his way through, followed closely by Rolfe, Willem and Eamon, Mairen's brothers. 


	7. Clues

Title: Mairen – A Life Once Lost  
  
Author: Fianna Betas: Julie, Anoriell, Jen, Char Rating: R Warnings: - in this chapter . . . Anger, hostility, mistreatment of honorable March Wardens for no good reason... gambling, elf drooling, large amounts of wishy-washiness... and sorry, no sex...yet! Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the right to all LOTR characters and I use them with great admiration, and with a conscious attempt to keep them in character. I do not receive any rewards from writing other than my own satisfaction of elaborating on a story dear to my heart.  
  
Chapter Seven: Clues  
  
Glaring disdainfully at the sea of staring human faces surrounding him, Haldir tightened his arms around Mairen, holding her protectively to his chest while Eomer pushed his way through the crowd, followed closely by Rolfe and Eamon. Willem, too, forced his way past several men, his lance slamming ankles as he quickly shoved aside bodies to get near his sister.  
  
Eomer reached out, gripping Haldir's shoulder to pull him aside, the King's gaze forcing the curious back. "Come, bring her," he said, and Haldir followed the King from the hall, using the full force of his haughty gaze and arrogant demeanor to discourage anyone else from following. Carrying Mairen's light weight easily, he followed the Rohirran King outside through another door set low into the side of the building.  
  
Eomer waved to his attendants, and they lit several lamps while Haldir laid Mairen gently upon the large bed, noting the paleness of her face with some concern. Feeling someone's approach, he turned his head sharply, but bit back his retort when he saw it was the Lady Eowyn.  
  
Eowyn touched his arm, a compassionate expression in her light eyes. "This is my room," she said with courtesy. "Let me see to her."  
  
He inclined his head and stepped back, allowing her to move forward and lean over Mairen. She glanced back at Haldir. "We are lucky you are so quick, for she would have been burned terribly had she fallen any closer." He saw her gaze flick over him, and then move on to Mairen's brothers as they filed their way into the room with Faramir following closely behind.  
  
Rolfe moved swiftly to Haldir's side, his dark eyes filled with suspicion as he clamped a hand on to Haldir's arm. "I want to know what you've done to her," he said stiffly. Eamon and Willem stood behind Rolfe, staring at Haldir with a mixture of confusion and concern.  
  
Haldir gazed coolly at Rolfe. "I have done nothing but save her from being burned while the others stood by and stared. Why are you angry?"  
  
Rolfe tightened his hold, ignoring the icy silver eyes in front of him. "You might have saved her this time, but I know you have bewitched her. Ever since she returned from Lothlórien she has been different."  
  
Haldir pulled his arm free and took a step away from Rolfe, while at the same time noting that Eomer watched them both carefully, his eyes intent. He also saw the way the king's gaze slid to Faramir so that the steward eased a few steps closer. Contemptuously, he wondered if they truly thought he would indulge in some sort of common brawl with this human, right here in the Lady Eowyn's bedchamber.  
  
"A coincidence," Haldir replied tersely. "She was treated as a guest, nothing more."  
  
Rolfe only stared accusingly at him and took a step forward only to be held back by Faramir. The steward grasped the Rohirran's arm tightly, drawing him close.  
  
"He has done nothing, Rolfe. The elves have only just arrived. Hold your tongue, for you speak words you do not mean. I know well the damage those can do." Faramir dragged the Rohirran back another step. "Your sister needs your concern, not your anger."  
  
Rolfe shook off Faramir's hold and gazed for moment at Mairen, but then turned back to Haldir. "We talked only last night of her, my brothers and I. Never before has she been like this. She does not sleep. She barely eats. She withers away before our eyes." He glared at Haldir. "And it has something to do with you, I know it."  
  
"If so, I cannot explain it," Haldir said frostily. "I know nothing of what you speak." His gaze shifted to Mairen when she moaned softly and stirred. "If you want answers, she is the one you must ask."  
  
Mairen groaned again, prompting Rolfe to move to the bed. Eowyn perched on the edge, her arm around Mairen's waist as she sought to soothe her.  
  
"Mairen, can you hear me?" Rolfe asked in a far gentler voice than he had used before. "Are you well?"  
  
Mairen's eyes opened, but they seemed glazed. Then she gasped, pushing past Eowyn to rise to her feet, swaying slightly. "No!" she said. "No, I am not well. I can take no more!"  
  
Throwing out an arm for balance, she avoided Rolfe's hands and whirled around to face Haldir. He felt Orophin move behind him and knew also that Rúmil had entered the room, aware both would act as his protectors.  
  
Mairen's gaze moved to Orophin and back to him. "You!" She took a step forward and seized Haldir by the front of his tunic. "Make them go away," she demanded, her eyes pleading. "I don't want to see them any more."  
  
Ignoring the other humans, Haldir held her gently by the arms. "See what, Mairen? What do you see?"  
  
She wrenched herself out of his grasp, fixing him with a wild stare. "You do not know?" She took a few steps away, but swayed again and this time it was Rolfe who caught her by the shoulders.  
  
"You see," he said, "even she thinks you've placed some kind of spell upon her."  
  
Haldir frowned. "I have done no such thing."  
  
Mairen pushed Rolfe away, staggering again toward Haldir, her hand at her temple. "That's right, you did nothing," she blurted in a quivering voice. "Nothing! You refused to help. Why should you bother? We are but mere mortals, insignificant . . ." She winced, and he could tell that she was dizzy as well as confused. Her despair and anger were so palpable he could almost feel them, and it disturbed him more than he would have anticipated.  
  
"You do not understand, none of you," she cried. Somehow he knew that she was struggling to focus between what lay in the present and whatever it was that gripped her from the past. She came close to him again, gripping his cloak as his hands automatically wrapped around her arms to steady her.  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes very green in her distress. "Why? Why do they come? Why did you . . . not come?" Her face was very pale.  
  
Haldir studied her face, holding her upright. "Mairen, I could not. You know that."  
  
She bowed her head, leaning for a moment against his chest. Before she hid her face, he glimpsed the rawness of her emotions—the anger, pain, grief, terror, and above all the despair. Such heart-rending despair as he had seldom seen.  
  
"You could not," she repeated dully. "Yes, I know this. And I have told myself that Orophin had no choice. I cannot fault either his action or yours."  
  
She pushed herself away from him, and from her distant look, he knew that images flashed before her eyes. Was it Helm's Deep that she remembered? Did she see images of death and men in pain, himself falling, elves she had never met dying, Willem struggling with his blindness, covered in blood? Whatever she saw, he knew the moment when her despair turned to fiery anger. The tension in her body made it clear.  
  
"What sights does your mind show you, Mairen? Your eyes are far flung and see not me but something else," he said. "I cannot aid you unless I know what ails you. Tell me, for whatever haunts you has done so before, I can sense it."  
  
Mairen laughed, an angry sound, and stepped back. "You can sense it? Can you sense this?" The echo of her hand on his cheek drew an outraged gasp from Eowyn.  
  
Haldir remained very still, a tiny gesture staying his brothers, and ignored the stinging sensation of her slap. He could easily have caught her hand, but instead he only stared down into the green-brown eyes before him. Those eyes were now wide with horror and fear. Of him?  
  
His glance slid to Eomer, but then returned to Mairen as she stepped back, covering her face with her hands. "I do not know what lies in your mind," he said evenly. "I only thought to aid you, but I see I was mistaken." He nodded curtly and spun on his heel, departing silently, followed by his brothers.  
  
Mairen sank to the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her forever, but it was not to be. Hauled to her feet by Rolfe, her brothers surrounded her. She was wrapped in a blanket and pushed into a chair. Willem gripped her shoulder as she accepted the wine shoved into her hand from Eowyn.  
  
Eomer stood back, watching them, and glanced at Faramir. "I do not know what this is about, but I have a feeling Rolfe may be right and it does include the elves. I do not wish to anger them. They have become staunch allies, as have you."  
  
Faramir folded his arms over his chest. "Based on what I have heard of Haldir, I do not think he will hold this against her. But I agree." He glanced back at Eomer. "Whatever is happening to this maiden has just begun."  
  
*~*  
  
She shouldn't have come so far. The road behind her was no more than a grey line in the darker shadows of black, while above her the city loomed darker yet, backlit by the full moon behind it, freed now from the rain that had swept the plain earlier that night. Occasional amber glows broke the dark expanse, animal eyes peering out distrustfully over the long shadows of the night.  
  
Mairen turned back toward the road, aware of her danger, alone and without steed on the wild plain. Surrounded by the low hills and shallow valleys, she could be beset by any number of threats, even Orcs, who sometimes lay in wait for an unwary messenger or warrior.  
  
But she was wary, and she gripped the lance she carried, using it as a staff to tread further from the city, and safety. Rolfe would be furious if he knew, but she didn't care. Not tonight, not after what had happened.  
  
She did not know what to do.  
  
Why had she reacted so strongly to the vision and to Haldir? She didn't understand it. She pushed away the guilt that lay like a rock in her stomach. She stopped for a moment clutching the long cloak around her. Around her the land lay in dark shadows, though not indistinguishable, and from the corner of her eye she caught a movement. At once she whirled, twirling the lance in her hands toward the shadowy forms behind her.  
  
One ducked the swinging lance. The other met Mairen's weapon with her own, and Mairen's eyes widened as her lance met the elvish sword of one of Haldir's wardens. They stood frozen and then Mairen stepped back, spinning the lance to stab it into the ground angrily. "You were following me."  
  
The warden smiled, and moved further into the moonlight. "Your guards at the gate might believe your insistence that you will be safe, but I fear there are too many dangers that lurk even this close to Edoras to walk alone at night." The elf bowed slightly, and Mairen realized finally that she was female.  
  
"I did not realize Haldir allowed female guards."  
  
The elf raised slim brows in amusement. "Haldir? He does not choose our life path. He only commands those who chose the life of a warrior. I am a warden and my name is Loriel. My friend is Nannirith."  
  
Mairen eyed the two female elves suspiciously. "Did Haldir send you to spy on me?"  
  
The elf called Nannirith snorted, and Mairen looked at her in surprise. The elf moved closer, staring at Mairen.  
  
"Spy? Haldir has many orders for us, but none of them are to spy on you, Rohan maiden. Nay, we are here only as emissaries, and not necessarily to the King."  
  
Mairen studied her. "You speak in riddles. I do not understand."  
  
Loriel sheathed her sword with a smile. "What Nannirith means is that Haldir wishes us to meet you, and perhaps to earn your friendship."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To aid you, as you requested."  
  
Mairen gripped the lance tightly. "I requested? I asked for no one's help."  
  
Nannirith moved around Mairen, assessing her with her gaze. "Did you not call for help? Lord Celeborn told Haldir that you had."  
  
"Lord Celeborn? I have spoken to no one since I left Lothlórien months ago."  
  
Loriel and Nannirith exchanged a glance and then both turned to Mairen. "It matters not," Loriel said, "but we are here. You seem past whatever beset you in the hall this evening. Has it happened before?" she questioned gently.  
  
Mairen eyed them warily, but shook her head. "Not like that." She sighed, and shoved her hand into her pocket, pulling out the stone she had held so often of late. It had seemed to ease her mind at times, yet not completely. The elves stared at the stone.  
  
"You carry a worry stone," Nannirith said, reaching out to touch it with one finger.  
  
"That explains Lord Celeborn's connection," Loriel stated, as Mairen curled her fingers around the stone.  
  
"What do you mean?" Mairen felt the stone warm in her hand.  
  
"Do you not know that a worry stone is inherent with magical properties? It is a very valuable item. It is also an amplifier, intensifying a mental connection, sometimes over great distances. It seems you were in some way connected to Lord Celeborn, perhaps for only a few moments, but during which, when you desired aid, he heard you."  
  
Shocked, Mairen opened her hand and gazed at the stone with a slight sense of panic. "He can hear my thoughts?"  
  
Loriel smiled, rewrapping Mairen's fingers around the rock. "Nay, only when he is open to it in mind and spirit, and you are as well." She sent Nannirith a wink and a smile. "Lord Celeborn often is, especially when he is reading."  
  
"Aye, he goes into a meditative trance, sometimes for hours," Nannirith quipped. "It drives Lady Galadriel mad sometimes."  
  
Mairen tucked the stone away in her pocket. "So, for some reason he was open to me and heard my thoughts. And sent you here?"  
  
Both elves nodded, and Mairen sighed. "But I don't need any help."  
  
"No?" Loriel asked. "You prefer to deal with whatever haunts you alone? Have you no one to go to for help? No lover in whom to confide your worst fears and find comfort?"  
  
Mairen stiffened. "Nay, I have no lover. I need no one like that."  
  
Nannirith's eyes widened. "What a lonely life you must lead," she remarked in a pensive tone. "I could not imagine having no one to curl up with once in awhile. It eases the mind and the heart. We see too much death not to love and be loved when we can."  
  
Loriel shook her head, glancing at her friend with amusement. "Of course Nannirith is insatiable when it comes to love. She is almost as bad as Rúmil . . . who I noticed smiled at you this evening," she added with a gleam in her eye as she gazed at Nannirith.  
  
Nannirith smiled slightly. "We are meeting later tonight."  
  
Mairen stared in astonishment. "But you are here on duty!"  
  
Nannirith shrugged. "Not every moment. Haldir does not begrudge us time alone, if that is our choice."  
  
Mairen shook her head. "And if you were to love Rúmil as a mate? What then?"  
  
Once more Nannirith lifted her slim shoulders. "No difference, as long as we fulfill our obligations. Is this not the way it is with you?"  
  
Mairen sighed. "I do not know, for I have not asked, nor fallen in love with anyone." She began to walk back toward the city and the elves fell in step with her.  
  
"That is a pity, young warrior, for you are very pretty. I cannot understand why you have no lover. Have you not been approached?" Nannirith looked at her appraisingly.  
  
"Perhaps she is like our March Warden," Loriel remarked. "So aloof it frightens them all away."  
  
"I would not mind getting closer to Haldir," Nannirith said with a sigh. "But I seem only able to gain the interest of his brothers, which of course I do not mind. But Haldir is a prize rarely received, and those whom he does seek out are discreet enough to say very little of him."  
  
Loriel sighed as well. "Aye, a precious commodity is that kind of love from our devoted March Warden. But there are times when he does seek female companionship, if only rarely."  
  
Nannirith frowned. "It has been a long while. The last was Eluviel and she says nothing of how it was with him. But she still follows him with her eyes when he is about, though it was only a short affair."  
  
"Aye, he loves no one but the lands of the elves."  
  
Mairen halted, regarding the two female wardens who were giving out far too much information for her peace of mind. "Stop, I beg you."  
  
Both elves turned toward Mairen with clear surprise. She gripped her forehead; she was getting a faint headache and knew she would not sleep again tonight. "Please, I do not wish to speak about Haldir. And you speak of things far too personal things for my comfort."  
  
Loriel stepped closer. "I am sorry, we forget you are perhaps not as open to such things as we are. Does your head ache? I cannot heal, but I have some herbs that might bring you some relief."  
  
Mairen shook her head. "It would not help, but thank you, Loriel, for your offer and both for your concern. I will return to my rooms now." She nodded to them and pushed past, easing back inside the city gates to become a shadow while the elves followed slowly.  
  
"We learned little," Loriel stated quietly, watching Mairen disappear into an alley. "But she is still ill, that much is clear. Her head pains her, and I am sure it heralds more visions like whatever possessed her earlier this eve."  
  
Nannirith grunted softly. "Aye, she will see something more. Haldir said he knew not what she sees, but Mairen grows uncomfortable speaking about him in the way that we were." She turned to Loriel with a mischievous smile. "Perhaps Celeborn is not the only one with a connection. Should we speak of it to Haldir?"  
  
Loriel shook her head. "Nay, for if she learned of it, she would assume we lied about not spying. He has not asked us to relate to him all that she says, only to be friendly should the occasion arise. It has and we have done so. Perhaps we will seek her out tomorrow and she may speak then of her visions. We cannot press her now."  
  
Nannirith nodded. "I fear we must press soon. She is far too pale for a Rohan warrior who rides the plain. I do not know how long she can fight against this."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen sank down into the hard chair, wrapped in a woolen blanket. She wore only her tunic, afraid to go to bed, knowing she would not sleep. She curled into the chair, staring at the low burning embers of her fire. She could hear Willem moving around in his room, as it lay next to hers, and then finally silence. Rolfe and Eamon were still in the great hall, attending Eomer, and would not return until late. Perhaps she might speak with Rolfe when he came in. But for now, she snuggled deeper into the blanket.  
  
The fire crackled quietly, sending sparks fluttering up the chimney and out into the room. She watched the tiny embers flicker with their fire, and then blacken and finally disappear into a tiny ball of ash. She wished the thoughts in her mind would burn into ash, for they continued to hound her. Thoughts and ideas, words even that were not her own! It was frightening. Was she possessed now as Théoden had been by Saruman? She was terrified that it might be so, and how to tell her brothers? Dear Rolfe, someone has taken over my mind, but please don't worry about me. She grimaced. But she had to think. If it were true, what did they intend? So far she'd only had thoughts and what seemed like memories. Where did they lead and why? She shook her head; already her temples throbbed with the effort to think clearly.  
  
She watched the fire for a moment. Remorse curled in the pit of her stomach, her behavior toward Haldir had been uncalled for, and she knew it. She stared past the flames into the shadows cast behind them, twisting flickering shapes that leaped and bounded over the fire, casting a warm amber glow within the stone of the fireplace. How to approach him now? She flushed, dwelling on what he must think of her. He had only been kind, and she had returned his aid with anger. It was like she had no control of her emotions, feelings and now actions! How could she have struck him? And yet he had not shown any anger.  
  
She remembered his eyes. They had nearly burned her in that brief moment of intensity before he turned and walked out. Had she destroyed any chance of gaining his interest? The heat had nearly melted her, and she had fallen when he left, unable to stand. Had it only been anger in that gaze? She shivered, and then yawned, blinking. Her eyelids were so heavy; it had been so long since she had slept. She stared at the flames and her eyes closed and her chin dropped onto her chest. The fire must be burning hot for she was warm, too warm . . .  
  
Mairen realized suddenly that it was not her own clothing she wore but another's, someone she did not know. The gown was long and dragged behind her, catching at the rocks and sticks that lay along the shore. She had been running, laughing, along the sea. She knew it was the sea, although she has never been there or seen it. The moon was full and hung like a beacon over the water, casting its moonlight over the black waters that rushed toward her. Excited and nervous, she ran further along the beach, lifting her diaphanous gown above her knees.  
  
The sea sang its soft whisper to her while the waves rushed to the shore, spilling out along the silvery line of beach only to recede back into the ocean, leaving foam in its wake. She splashed along the edge, chasing the waves as they came in, skipping over the deeper water that attempted to pull her out with it, reaching down once in a while to salvage a lovely shell that had washed up.  
  
For the few hours of the night she was free from her responsibilities, but she also knew that her father would be angry that she ran along the shore. She was too free, he often warned. Too careless. Someday a sea god would come forth and capture her, taking her back with him into the sea, never to return. She always laughed and told him that her future did not lie with the sea, but with the lands of the Golden Wood. She was called there. Does he not remember?  
  
Mairen stopped, realizing suddenly that these thoughts were not hers. Confused, she breathed deeply the salty tang of sea air and wondered what was happening. Where was she? And who was she? She needed to know, but her thoughts grew distant as she took over, wading out to her knees in the surf toward a glowing disk that floated in the water. It was a jellyfish, and she stepped back carefully, aware of their sting, but curious all the same. The waves slapped at her hips, for she had moved further out, and had to retreat quickly to escape the current's insistent pull. She knew a fleeting moment of fear as the sand ebbed beneath her feet and then she found her step on solid ground, and laughed at her silliness.  
  
This was her place and the night was her playground. How often she had come here to escape her duties and feel free! She ran back along the beach, climbing carefully over the to the smaller cove where she would swim. Few came here during the day and none at night. It was hers alone. She ran along the water again, lifting her sodden dress into her hands as the waves splashed at her knees. She moved out into the waves when suddenly right before her a god arose from the water, lean and fair and beautiful, with silver hair and flashing grey eyes fringed with night-dark lashes.  
  
She screamed, shocked by the sight, and found herself backing up onto the shore. Then the god laughed and she recognized his voice, covering her open mouth with her hand. No god was he, but only elf, one whom she had watched all evening in awe and flustered excitement.  
  
The elf waded only to his waist, his chest bare, and she knew that he wore nothing more. How had he found her cove, this elf of the Golden Wood? He had come with the elves from Lórien and Rivendell, bringing one who would travel in the grey ships to the West. He had come, as she watched from her father's home, leading them to Cirdan's Hall. She had wished to attend the great meeting, but had been unable; her duties kept her at the docks, helping her father with supplies and loading the ships. But she had not forgotten his face and to see him now, standing in her cove, made her heart flutter once more.  
  
"I did not mean to frighten you. I thought I would be alone." He spoke quietly, standing still, ignoring the ebb and flow of the waves at his waist, repeatedly revealing more and then less of him with the timeless rhythm of the sea.  
  
"I did not expect you, that is all," she said in a defensive tone. "How did you find my cove? No one comes here."  
  
He smiled, his eyes glittering in a way she had not seen directed toward her by any but young elves intent on their first conquest. It made her nervous, for she had no intention of falling prey to this older elf's desires.  
  
"I only followed the trail," he said. "You must come here often to leave such a path. I thought it made by the deer."  
  
Feeling wary, she kept her distance while he continued to appraise her. "It is actually," she answered. "The deer come across here every night. I followed them once and found the cove. I swim here. Alone."  
  
He frowned slightly, and she suppressed a shiver, not at the change in his expression but at the sight of him illuminated by the moonlight.  
  
"I am sorry if I disturbed your sanctuary. I only thought to take a short swim. It eases my mind." He moved a step closer and she held out her hands to stay him. He was too close, and she knew her eyes must have widened with panic, for his chin lifted and she could see his amusement. He paused, raising an eyebrow. The waves splashed lower now, around his hips. If he took another step in her direction . . .  
  
"It is I who has intruded," she said quickly. "I will return to my home and leave you in peace."  
  
"You don't have to go."  
  
She laughed, shaking her head, and stepped back, but he reached out, grasping her wrist with an impossibly strong grip that pulled her closer to him. The waves rocked her as they swept around them, but his hands held her arms gently.  
  
"I saw you tonight, but you would not come near. Are you afraid of me?"  
  
"Afraid?" she whispered, for he was too close and she was fast losing her train of thought. "Not afraid. Only not ready."  
  
"Ready for what?" he asked, his gray eyes piercing. She gripped his hands with hers to still her trembling.  
  
"For you," she said, and then smiled, twisting out of his surprised grasp to wade back to shore. "I knew someday you would come. Seek me again in the future, March Warden. You will know when the time is right . . ."  
  
Mairen woke abruptly by sliding straight out of the chair, knocking it over with her fall. Sprawling in front of the winking embers of the fire, she stared at the fire, struggling to control her breathing. A hard knock sounded on the door.  
  
"Mairen? Are you all right?" It was Rolfe.  
  
He opened the door and peered inside as she scrambled to her feet, righting the chair. "I am fine. I knocked over my chair is all. It got caught in my blanket." She pulled the cloth tight around her chin, staring at her brother.  
  
Rolfe frowned, eyeing the fire and then Mairen. "Do you want me to replenish your fire? The night is chill again. You were not asleep?"  
  
Mairen shook her head. "I was only sitting by the fire. I am fine, Rolfe. Go to bed."  
  
He studied her for a moment longer, and then nodded and shut the door quietly. Mairen sank down to the floor, huddling for a long while in her blanket while she tried to make sense of what—and whom—she had just seen.  
  
*~*  
  
Haldir leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand as he sat at the small desk in his room, contemplating the day's events. It had all happened so quickly. He sighed, shifting his thoughts to the small fierce warrior, both intrigued and irritated by her whirlwind emotions.  
  
He was quite certain she had not been fully in control of them this evening, and striking him was a testament to the volatility of those emotions. Clearly, whatever was troubling the Rohirran maiden was frightening her badly, though she would not admit it to anyone, least of all him. How to circumvent her stubbornness? That was the question that nagged him, for he sensed that to leave her to deal alone with whatever ailed her would lead to her death.  
  
The girl had looked pale and wan even before falling into the fire. The moment he'd walked through the doors of the Great Hall, he had seen her, standing amid the crowded room at her table, her eyes wide with surprise at his appearance. Her brother had stood next to her, and Haldir had instantly known that he was still without his sight, but his attention had quickly returned to Mairen.  
  
She was thin, far thinner than when she had taken him to Lórien, and it was with a deep sense of foreboding that he had turned away to speak to Eomer. Galadriel's concern had leaped at once to his mind, and it was why he had sent his brothers into the room, hoping with their hearing to learn more of Mairen. He had not expected to find himself drawn so quickly into her troubles. What had triggered her attack?  
  
He rose, walking to the window to peer out, and saw that Loriel and Nannirith were returning. They soon entered his room, still deep in conversation.  
  
"If she does not speak of it, what then? If we cannot find out what is happening, how can we help her?" Nannirith was saying. A moment later she bowed to him and touched her forehead with respect. "Haldir," she said, "we have spoken with Mairen."  
  
Loriel shut the door and bowed also, then moved to the desk, courteously waiting for his slight nod before she sank into his vacant chair. "A mystery to be solved," she said. "Mairen is stubborn."  
  
Haldir inclined his head, having come to the same conclusion. "So you were able to meet her. What was her reaction?"  
  
Loriel glanced at Nannirith. "Surprise. She wandered outside the city and we followed. A foolish idea to traverse the plain alone." When Haldir frowned, she added hastily, "She is a true warrior. As soon as we neared her, she sensed our presence and turned, ready to slay the both of us."  
  
Nannirith smiled. "Had it been an Orc, he would have had no head. But we are too quick! On foot or horse, the Rohirrim are deadly with those lances they carry."  
  
Loriel sat up straight. "A perfect idea, Nannirith! Why did I not think of it before?"  
  
Well used to these two and their conversations, Haldir leaned against the window and observed them. They were among the most perceptive of his wardens, keen of eye, while their female gender gave them other advantages and uses. He saw Nannirith staring in confusion at Loriel and smiled inwardly.  
  
"We must challenge her," Loriel said, leaning on the desk and gazing with determination at Nannirith. "She will not speak of what troubles her, but during any sparring match, one's words are not always well thought out. Often we speak of things that lie deep within our minds without thinking. I know I must always watch what I say when fighting Orophin, for he tries to delve into my deepest secrets when we spar." She laughed, then flushed at the raised brows of both Nannirith and Haldir.  
  
"What secrets does my brother seek to know, Loriel?" Haldir inquired with a lazy look.  
  
Loriel grinned. "None that I would tell you, March Warden, and I mean that quite respectfully." Springing to her feet, she folded her arms over her chest. "We have offered her our friendship. She worries that you send us to spy on her, even though we told her otherwise. She is a warrior at heart, and might find it welcome to train against us."  
  
Remembering how pale Mairen had been, Haldir considered this with care. "If she is able," he finally agreed. "I do not wish her to be hurt."  
  
Nannirith spoke up. "Sir, are you aware that Mairen carries a worry stone?"  
  
Haldir's eyes narrowed. "I did not know. That is interesting. It explains her connection with Lord Celeborn. As to her connection with myself . . ." Here, he paused, unwilling to say more aloud.  
  
He only knew that he and Mairen had been drawn together too many times for coincidence. It was a riddle he was determined to decipher.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen stepped outside the stable, drawing Epona behind her quickly as the small patrol gathered to mount. The news of Aragorn's approach had Eomer deciding to meet the King on the border. Rolfe mounted his horse a few steps away and Mairen pulled Epona aside.  
  
"Mairen, you have met Faramir, have you not?" Eamon moved near, followed closely by Faramir, who stood at Eamon's side to greet Mairen.  
  
She turned away from Epona and bowed to the Gondorian steward, catching the hint of amusement in his brown eyes. The man was fair to look upon, his face tanned and filled with good humor. Any testament to his grief of recent days was hidden. He flashed an attractive grin, and reached out to grip Mairen's hand.  
  
"I have not met you formally, my lord," Mairen said. "Welcome to Edoras."  
  
Faramir drew her closer. "I wanted to say thank you, Mairen, and to see for myself that you are well. Eowyn speaks so fondly of you. I can see you and she are much alike."  
  
Mairen pulled her hand back. "Aye, we can be, which is not always a good thing, my lord." Turning back to Epona, she pulled herself up into the saddle and looked down at the steward. "Beware of her moods, Lord Faramir. You will never know what she will do." She smiled at him and urged her horse forward into the line of patrol.  
  
They rode swiftly from the city, two abreast as they thundered over the hills toward the borders. It would not take long to reach Aragorn, and Eomer rode at their head, his blond hair whipping in the wind with his Uncle's captain, Gamling, beside him. Behind him rode Rolfe and another of his captains, and finally Mairen at the end as rear guard.  
  
Aragorn met the Rohirrim with a smile, reining in his stallion as he waited, surrounded quickly by the patrol, although this time it was not with spears drawn and held to point. Eomer halted beside the Gondor King. "I could not allow such fine royalty to traverse my lands unguarded," Eomer greeted them with a laugh.  
  
Aragorn leaned back in his saddle to peruse the warriors who now surrounded them, and turned to his beautiful elf companion, murmuring something to her in Elvish. The Lady Arwen laughed at his words.  
  
"Lord Eomer, my husband tells me your welcome this time is much more agreeable than your last. I find it most welcome to have your warriors as guard, and your presence among them is an honor." She bowed to the Rohirran Horse Lord in respect.  
  
Eomer returned her bow and signaled to the patrol, and the Rohirrim formed rank alongside Aragorn and his retainers. Mairen found her place riding beside the Lady Arwen, and glanced at the elf curiously.  
  
Tilting her dark head, Arwen returned her gaze. "I find myself pleased to ride beside one of the few Rohirran maiden warriors."  
  
Mairen shook her head. "Nay it is I, my lady, who am flattered. Your visit to us has been greatly anticipated by many. I welcome you to the lands of the Eorlingas."  
  
Arwen smiled and looked around her. "It is a land that matches her people—strong and defiant and hard, but with a beauty all her own." The elf glanced at her husband, and Aragorn reached out to touch Arwen's hand with a fond smile.  
  
"Indeed, the strength of the Rohirrim shall be tested again and again, yet I have no fear that if I should need aid,"Aragorn nodded at Eomer who rode beside him, "I shall find it on my doorstep." He leaned closer to Eomer and they began to speak quietly.  
  
Arwen turned back to Mairen. "My husband says you have visitors from Lothlórien. I had hoped perhaps to see my Grandmother again, but he said he thinks only Haldir and his wardens have come." She sighed, but the smile remained on her lips.  
  
Mairen nodded. "Aye, the March Warden has come to pay his lady's respects. I am sorry it is not the Lady Galadriel."  
  
"Do not be, for I saw her just recently at my own wedding. To see her again so soon would have been pleasant, but I know she does not wish to leave her lands. I fear her next journey will be to the Grey Havens, and I do not wish for that day to come too soon."  
  
They rode, their pace quick but not rushed, and cantered through the gates of Edoras to many cries of welcome. Mairen dismounted quickly, but not before she noticed Haldir had come to greet the King and Arwen, whom he assisted from her horse. To Mairen's slight annoyance, Arwen rewarded Haldir with a hug, but she also noticed he did not return it and felt a flash of satisfaction that was most unlike her. Why should she care? As more guards dismounted, they were soon lost from her view, and Mairen turned and led Epona into the dim stables, her emotions once more unsettled.  
  
"Greetings, Mairen. I hoped to speak to you again." Loriel approached her, opening the stall door as Mairen drew Epona inside.  
  
"Good morrow, Loriel. What can I do for you?" She glanced warily at the elf as she unbuckled the cinches and slid off Epona's saddle.  
  
Loriel took the saddle from her and heaved it over the side of the stall, and then leaned against the door to watch Mairen brush the horse.  
  
"You look better today," she observed. You have some color in your cheeks." She paused. "I thought you might like to help Nannirith and I pass some time while we wait for the wedding to commence."  
  
Mairen slanted a curious glance at Loriel, whose blue eyes stared back with frank inquisitiveness. "I am not on duty for the rest of the day," Mairen answered. "What did you have in mind?"  
  
Loriel's gaze now twinkled in challenge. "A match, of Rohirran strength against elf. What say you? Shall we draw eyes to a feminine warrior challenge? It would be fun and entertaining. And perhaps you will draw some appreciative glances your way."  
  
Mairen cast Loriel an amused glance. "I don't care to draw such things to me, but I would not mind a sparring match. Eamon has been too busy and Willem no longer can." She frowned and looked away.  
  
Loriel saw the frown and slid back inside the stall. "Mairen, do not judge your brother only by his loss of sight. He is still a strong warrior. Such things can be overcome. He can fight. You might be surprised."  
  
Mairen gazed at the elf. "But he is blind, Loriel. He cannot see his adversary."  
  
Loriel laughed. "And could you see us last night? We have other senses that can accommodate the lack of sight. Haldir could teach him. Haldir can fight like no other even when he cannot see. You should ask him about it."  
  
Mairen tucked the brush under her arm in order to untangle a knot in Epona's mane. "I will mention it to Willem. It is his choice." She put away the brush and moved out of the stall to face the elf.  
  
"If it is a challenge you offer, then I accept. Perhaps a bout might ease my mind." Despite everything, she smiled at the sparkle in the elf's eyes, and they moved out of the stable into the bright sunlight.  
  
*~*  
  
The area the Rohirrim used for training sat near the stables, a rare area of relatively flat land, hardly larger than an acre, but protected from the fierce winds by the surrounding stables and homes. Warriors of all sizes meandered around the arena, a few trading blows within its fences, but most leaning against the rails or standing in conversation with others. The arrival of the last patrol had many still holding their horses and Mairen sighed, knowing that as usual their attention would soon be focused on her. She strode quickly to the gate, seeing Willem standing near the fence with Eamon, but she ignored them and pushed open the wooden rail to move inside the arena.  
  
Loriel followed her and Mairen could sense the attention they were already attracting, including Willem and Eamon at the fence. She moved to the side where the extra weapons were kept for practice, picking up a long lance and weighing it for a moment in her hand, checking the staff's balance.  
  
"What weapon do you choose, Loriel? Will you try a Rohirran lance?" She handed the stout spear to the elf and saw Loriel smile and run a hand over the smooth pole.  
  
"An interesting weapon. I shall try it."  
  
Mairen nodded, and chose another lance. They moved toward the center of the arena, and then turned, facing each other as opponents.  
  
Across the yard, Rúmil leaned against the fence next to Willem with Orophin close to his other side. He glanced at the two females as they circled slowly in the arena and then looked back at Willem.  
  
"An interesting competition, Willem. Mairen against Loriel. Loriel is a fine warrior."  
  
Willem smiled, his eyes moving toward Rúmil to stare at him blankly. "An excellent sparring partner, I am sure. But Mairen is exceptional. She has chosen to use the lance, has she not?"  
  
"Aye, she has," Rúmil confirmed.  
  
Willem chuckled. "Then your Loriel will soon find herself upon her back. Mairen has put many of us there easily." He leaned forward as the sound of the lances striking each other broke the silence, and many more Rohirrim moved toward the fence to watch.  
  
Rúmil glanced across Willem to Orophin. "A challenge, I think. I say we should place a wager on such an event."  
  
Orophin glanced at the two in the arena and then back to Rúmil. "I cannot choose between them. I know Loriel's skill, but I have a feeling Willem may be right. The lance is a Rohirran weapon, and I think Mairen has the advantage."  
  
Rúmil shrugged. "But that is not to say it will end there. Loriel is wily and carries her sword. Mairen might find her weapon lacking against an elvish blade."  
  
Willem laughed. "Enough! They are evenly matched. Let us wager."  
  
Rúmil leaned closer. "So be it. What would you spend in defense of your kin?" The three spoke quickly, placing bets, and rapidly found more interested faces inquiring on the wager. Soon they were busy taking bets from the various Rohirrim warriors. Willem shook his head, pulling Eamon to stand next to him.  
  
"Mairen will not be happy to be the subject of such things." Eamon chuckled, making some marks on who had been selected to win.  
  
"She will not know unless you tell her, Eamon, for I certainly will not." Willem grinned, nodding toward the two sparring females. They had been toying with each other, and Willem could hear the whirling lances easily, noting that neither had yet made use of her full strength.  
  
Eamon chuckled when Mairen spun her lance over her shoulder, slamming the back of the elf's knees, buckling them, and she rolled to the ground only to leap back to her feet. "The elf is agile and quick, I would be lying moaning on the ground at that blow."  
  
Willem sighed, "You must describe what is happening, for I hear it, but cannot tell who has stuck who."  
  
Rúmil winced as Mairen barely avoided Loriel's latest swing, the lance brushing over her head by the slimmest margin. "Loriel has just swung the lance at Mairen, but she ducked . . . barely."  
  
Willem snorted. "She is well aware of where she stands. Do not believe it mere luck." The lances collided. "Mairen will now spin and swing the lance low only bring it upright . . ."  
  
Orophin shook his head as Mairen proceeded to do just that, and the lance slammed Loriel's chin so that she fell backwards to the ground with a grunt.  
  
"I told you!" Willem groaned, shaking his own head. "I felt that!"  
  
Eamon snickered. "Aye, it's her favorite move. We should know it well enough by now. She always seems to know when to use it." He smiled as Mairen stepped back and Loriel moved slowly to her feet, rubbing her chin.  
  
Rúmil glanced at Orophin, then back at Loriel, who spun her lance, twirling the six-foot pole toward her opponent. "Loriel has used such weapons," he said for Willem's benefit. "Our own swords use many of the same moves. She has advanced toward Mairen." He winced again as Mairen misjudged the angle of Loriel's swing and caught a solid blow to her shoulder. "She has been struck."  
  
Willem frowned. "She is strong. I hope your brother was not angered by Mairen's striking him last night. She was not herself."  
  
"Nay, he was not. But he keeps his distance."  
  
Rúmil smiled, watching the sparring women closely. "Aye, but I can guarantee that he is watching them right now. And with interest."  
  
Orophin chuckled, and then groaned as Loriel flew back, tripped up once more by Mairen's lance. The elf leaped back to her feet and backed up, grinning good-naturedly.  
  
As Rúmil had guessed, Haldir was indeed watching from farther up the hill above the arena, where he stood partially hidden by the shadows of the building behind him. His elf warden was well trained, but it was Mairen who held his interest, his eyes narrowed against the sunlight. Something about her movements seemed familiar, and he watched, intrigued, storing them in the back of his mind while at the same time admiring her grace, strength, and beauty.  
  
Mairen ducked Loriel's swing, and spun to bring her own weapon up but found instead Loriel had caught on to Mairen's move and slammed her lance across Mairen's jaw, knocking the Rohirran off her feet. Mairen rolled over, and Haldir knew her head must be swimming with the force of the blow, and saw her stagger to her feet. The sound of the elf drawing her sword must have alerted her, for Haldir saw her stiffen.  
  
Haldir straightened when Loriel drew her blade, studying them as Mairen backed up a step, then leaped forward, the long lance spinning wickedly, flashing a glancing light off the metal tip. Loriel ducked and turned quickly, bringing up the heavy elvish sword in a blow that shattered the staff of the lance as it met the edge of the long blade. Mairen stumbled at the loss of her momentum, rolling quickly over as Loriel turned.  
  
Haldir saw Rúmil lean forward over the fence, as Mairen stared up at him. Loriel straightened, holding her sword ready while Mairen got to her feet, only a few feet from the elves and her brothers at the fence.  
  
Rúmil spoke with Mairen, and she smiled as his brother pulled the sword from the sheath on his back swiftly, handing the long elvish weapon to the Rohirran warrior. Mairen then turned to face Loriel.  
  
Haldir's eyes continued to follow the flowing choreography of the two warriors as they resumed their contest. The ease with which Mairen adapted to the new weapon fascinated him, for she wielded the weapon like one who had trained with it. It was with an uncanny sense of certainty that Haldir decided that he had seen this warrior fight before.  
  
But when? 


	8. A Life Revealed

Title: Mairen – A Life Once Lost Author: Fianna Betas: Julie, Anoriell, Jen, Char Rating: R Warnings: - in this chapter . . . continued frustration and longing . . . major clues and hints, minor swash buckling of characters . . . Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the right to all LOTR characters and I use them with great admiration, and with a conscious attempt to keep them in character. I do not receive any rewards fro writing other than my own satisfaction of elaborating on a story dear to my heart.  
  
Chapter 8: A Life Revealed  
  
Mairen staggered backwards from the blow, reeling away from the glittering elvish blade of her opponent. Until now, she'd always disliked using her sword, finding it cumbersome and unwieldy compared to her lance or even her bow. Even the sword Rolfe had had made especially for her had never felt right in her hand. But Rúmil's elvish sword felt like an extension of her arm, and as she advanced on Loriel, she suddenly wondered why she felt so comfortable with a weapon she'd never used.  
  
She and Loriel circled each other, swinging the long blades across their bodies in a wicked arc, using a two-handed grip reminiscent of the way one held a lance. Perhaps that was why she liked the weapon, Mairen thought distractedly as she blocked Loriel's parry with a twist of her wrists.  
  
They leaped forward, and Mairen swung the sword in backhanded curve that was greeted by a ringing clang of metal. Loriel's blue eyes were narrowed in concentration, no sign of her humor showing as she drove forward with an offensive blow.  
  
Mairen ducked the swing, then whirled to block Loriel's return stroke. The blades met and slid apart with a wicked hiss. Vaguely, she noticed that the arena had grown eerily silent; only the sound of the blades' clashes echoed in the air. Mairen grew conscious of the fiercely intent gazes of the watching elves. What was it that drew their attention so keenly?  
  
Her arms grew weary from the fight, and as she leaned back to avoid Loriel's next stroke she stumbled, but recovered quickly. An instant later she leaped forward, carrying the arc of her blade over her head to slash at Loriel, but the elf anticipated the move and blocked it cleanly, sliding her own blade forward to catch Mairen's. The weapons locked at the hilt, and then Loriel twisted, forcing Mairen to stumble once again. This time she lost her footing and sprawled on her back in the dirt, the sword flying out of her hand to land several feet away.  
  
The point of Loriel's sword halted Mairen's roll. "If you were in full health," the elf said, "I would be lost, for you fight better than I do. But you are not, and I claim victory in this match." Loriel reached out a hand to Mairen.  
  
With a sigh, Mairen yielded and pushed herself up, grasping the elf's hand to stand. "A fight well fought, and I disagree that I would win." She bowed her head in defeat and then glanced toward the fence, seeing a large crowd gathered around her brothers. At once she understood what was happening.  
  
"They have bet on our outcome, the rotten scoundrels," she complained. "I'll have something to say about that!"  
  
Loriel laughed and caught hold of her arm. "Do not be angry. It is already done, but perhaps you can lay claim to any winnings. I know I shall." She grinned, pulling Mairen toward the fence.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen and Loriel's fight having concluded, Haldir redirected his attention to Arwen, whose arrival he had sensed just a moment before. He turned and nodded a courteous greeting to her, noting how her curious gaze moved past him to the arena below.  
  
"She fights well for a human," she said softly. "And with an elvish sword. That is rare."  
  
He glanced back toward Mairen and nodded thoughtfully. He could feel Arwen's gaze on his face. "You are not here only on behalf of my grandmother?" she asked.  
  
Haldir only lifted one brow, and Arwen sighed. "You are as stubborn and secretive as ever, I see. I shall have to recall my powers of persuasion." She laughed and slipped her arm through Haldir's, drawing him along the path down the hill.  
  
Haldir walked along beside her, his lips curved in a wry smile. "If I remember correctly, my lady, you usually went to your grandmother when we did not do as you wished."  
  
Arwen sniffed and glanced at him from under her eyelashes, but her gaze was piercing in its intensity. "When we were young, yes, but I am now an adult, Haldir. I perceive there is more to your journey than you tell Eomer. Why the secrecy?"  
  
Haldir escorted Arwen up the steps of the Great Hall. "It is no secret, Arwen," he said as they made their way inside.  
  
The Evenstar stopped suddenly, pulling him around to face her. "You can sidestep the question, Haldir, but I will not go without an answer. What draw does this young human have on you? You watch her whenever she is near. I saw your gaze when we arrived, and it lingered not on Aragorn, nor me, but on this female warrior. Even now I see the concern in your eyes, though you seek to hide it. What is happening?"  
  
Haldir gazed down at Arwen and considered his words with care. "Do not forget that she risked her life to save mine. Now she is ill and I am concerned." He glanced around the hall, eyeing the noisy Rohirrim who lounged there, and caught Aragorn's attention as he did so. "She refuses to speak of it. There has been little that I have been able to find out."  
  
Arwen looked at him. "It is for her to deal with; I am concerned about you. Why do you care about her?"  
  
Haldir's gaze shifted to Aragorn as he came up in time to catch his wife's question. The Gondorian King laid a gentle hand on Haldir's shoulder. "Care? For whom does Haldir care?" Aragorn gazed at Haldir, who gazed back at him with impassivity.  
  
"As stiff and unbending as always," Aragorn remarked. "But perchance I can guess. Do you speak of the pretty young Rohirran who stares at Haldir whenever he is near? She was at the battle, was she not? I recognize her."  
  
Haldir slid out from Aragorn's grip. "Aye, she was there. She is ill, and that is my only reason for concern."  
  
Aragorn's brows drew together. "Ill? In what way?"  
  
Haldir shook his head. "I am not yet sure, but I do not think even your skills in healing can help her."  
  
Aragorn exchanged glances with Arwen, then looked back at Haldir. "Please explain."  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen moved up the hill, massaging her arm to ease the ache while pushing aside the weariness that seemed to drag at her limbs. The match had been well received, although the strange looks she had noticed from a few of the Rohirrim had made her pause. She also remembered the intent looks from the elves and wondered what they had seen. She didn't know. She avoided a large pig rooting in the path, and leaped up the steep incline toward her home.  
  
The day was growing warm and the breeze cooled her as she made her way up the hill. But it was not enough, and Mairen was breathing heavily when she reached a fairly level area of the path.  
  
She wished she had not followed Eamon down to the gates. It was his watch, but her irritation about the gambling had prompted her to go after him and scold him. At first he had ignored her tirade, then finally he'd spun around, saying, "Why would we not bet on you? You fight well. I thought for certain you would be victorious. As it is, I lost a whole week's wage, so I should be the one who is angry."  
  
"Angry because I lost?" She arched a brow and rested her hands on her hips.  
  
"Aye," he said doggedly. He glared at her, staring down his straight nose and folding his arms over his chest. "In fact, you handled that elvish weapon amazingly well for one who has never used it before. Have you had training I do know not of?"  
  
Mairen glared back, unperturbed by her brother's gaze. "I have not. 'Twas a well-made weapon, that is all. Furthermore, you know I spar with no one other than you and Willem. No one else likes to fight me."  
  
Eamon grinned, a rare flash of humor, and she grew suddenly aware of several nearby Rohirrim guards who were unabashedly eavesdropping. She flashed them a glare as Eamon said, "No, they do not like to find themselves at your feet in that manner. But if you would bat an eyelash at one or two, you might find them willingly on their knees."  
  
Mairen turned her gaze back to Eamon. "You'll be burning in the fires of Mount Doom before I bat eyelashes at any man. I do not play feminine games."  
  
"Ah, so you will have no man, you say, but what of an elf?" He gave her chin a playful clip with his fist.  
  
Mairen stepped back in consternation. "Elf?" she said sharply. "What gives you that idea? Your wits are addled from the sun. I shall go back to the hall." She twisted away from him, but Eamon caught hold of her arm, holding her at his side.  
  
His manner now more serious, he leaned closer to her, glancing around at the Rohirrim who strained to hear what he said. "I see his gaze upon you, sister. He seems very protective of you. I worry, Mairen." Eamon's words were soft, for her alone. "You speak words you say you do not know, you use an elvish weapon with more ease than your own sword. And I see interest in the eyes of one who should not look your way." He gripped her shoulders, pulling her into a rib-crunching embrace that lasted only a moment.  
  
"But it remains a mystery," he said with a sigh. "Run along and leave me be. Willem gambled also, so go snarl at him for a while. I do not regret my wager." He wrapped his hands around her face, kissing her forehead, and then turned away, leaping up the ladder to the ramparts of the wooden wall.  
  
Mairen sighed and shook her head, resuming her trek up the hill. Brothers! She stepped beyond the shadow of a building and paused, blinded for a moment by the bright sunlight.  
  
"You fought well," said a deep male voice.  
  
Mairen started, shielding her eyes from the light's glare so that she might see the tall elf who stood there looking so coolly at her. The force of his gaze made her flinch with guilt for her recent treatment of him.  
  
"Thank you, but I lost." Trying to ignore him, she continued her steps, but Haldir kept pace with her.  
  
"Only because you are not well."  
  
Slightly flustered, Mairen glanced at Haldir. "That is also what Loriel said."  
  
"She sees much. They tell me you carry a worry stone."  
  
Without thinking, Mairen touched the stone that lay in her pocket. "Aye, it was Renny's. Why?"  
  
Haldir's strong fingers wrapped around her arm, halting her when she would have continued on. He pulled her gently around. "They told you what it could do?" They stood on the path, she slightly above him so that she gazed straight into his piercing eyes.  
  
"Perhaps," she said evasively.  
  
Haldir released her arm. "Are you going to refuse my help again?"  
  
Mairen looked away guiltily, then glanced back to see that Haldir's expression had become hooded and aloof. Why did she resist his help? Would he have done the same with her, had he been able? She had no reason to treat him so coldly.  
  
She gripped the stone in her pocket, drawing it out. "They said it amplifies one's thoughts," she said to him.  
  
Haldir nodded, his grey eyes locked with hers. "Aye, it can. Are you willing to use it in such a way? Perhaps I can see what you see, Mairen. If so, I may be able to help you."  
  
Mairen took a deep breath, wrapping her fingers around the stone. The warmth of the sun on her face, the heat of the day and her exhaustion all faded away until only the elf and her fears lay before her. "Why do you wish to help me?" she asked quietly. "You should be angry that I struck you. I have neither excuse nor explanation."  
  
"I am not angry, Mairen. I see that you are confused. You saved my life, not once but twice, and I only wish to return the favor."  
  
She looked away again, filled with an unfathomable sense of disappointment. He considered it a debt. Is that all it was? She tried to push away the memory that suddenly returned, fighting the image that flashed so strongly into her mind, and with it, the intense attraction she felt to him. The strange vision of Haldir, standing in the sea, illuminated by the moonlight passed quickly through her mind as he stepped closer, wrapping his hands around her own, the worry stone held tightly in her fist.  
  
And then, incredibly, she felt his mind link with hers, knew suddenly that he could see what she saw . . . and then his sudden shock of awareness wiped out the vision and he abruptly released her hands. Jolted back to the present, Mairen lifted a hand to her temple, the receding rush of emotions and memories leaving behind a violent headache and a trembling weakness in her knees.  
  
Haldir stared at her, and then reached out quickly, catching her just as she began to collapse, his strong arms easing her carefully to the ground. She lifted her head to look up at him from under her eyelashes, her face flooding with heat of embarrassment that he should be aware of what she had seen.  
  
"Those memories are not mine," she whispered as he knelt down beside her.  
  
Haldir's gaze pierced hers, grey and intense, smoldering with an emotion she could not quite read. "Nay, but they are ones I recognize, Mairen."  
  
*~*  
  
Haldir left Mairen in the care of Willem, and made his way toward the gilded hall of the King. Outside the doors the Royal guard stood silent, their eyes following him as he moved to stand at the edge of the platform overlooking the valley and the distant White Mountains.  
  
The wind snapped the banners over his head and fluttered the ends of his cloak, but the sun was warm amid the coolness of the breeze. He glanced briefly at the guards but soon turned his gaze back to the plain, not really seeing the distant snow-covered mountains, but rather Mairen's vision that he had perceived.  
  
It had been completely unexpected, yet it answered so many questions. Eomer had taken him aside earlier in the day, relating little of Mairen's condition, but forcing Rolfe to tell Haldir what he knew. It had not been much, for the maiden had not revealed what she had been dealing with to anyone. But Haldir had learned enough from Rolfe to recognize the signs . . . or what he knew to be signs, if he were certain of what was happening.  
  
Did he dare speak of it to Eomer and Mairen's brothers? Rolfe's distrust would not be easy to overcome. If what Haldir considered were true, then Mairen would have to return to Lothlórien. It was the only way to aid her. But he was not sure, and he struggled to decide what he might do next to aid the woman who had twice come to his own aid.  
  
He crouched down, ignoring the interested gazes of the guards, resting his arm on his knee. Mairen's brother had said she had spoken words of elvish in her sleep, assuming she had picked them up while in Lorién. But Haldir knew the few days she had been there would not have allowed her to learn them that quickly. Nay, and after today he knew with a certainty that she had not.  
  
He remembered the day of her memory only too well.  
  
He remembered Seothlindë.  
  
The journey to the Gray Havens in the year 2510 of the Third Age had been fraught with much pain and anguish. Elrond rode at their head, beside him his wife, wedded late to the Lord of Rivendell. Tragedy had struck the pair and the results of it were now coming to a painful end. For Elrond it was the end. Celébrian, his wife, was only a faded sense of her earlier self, lifeless, gray and depressed. Her trials at the hands of the Orcs should have killed her, whether physically or mentally. Most elves that had met such a fate would have faded instantly, unable to bear the torture of memories that for an elf would never recede, but inside her was the strength of her mother. And so Celébrian had lived, only to exist in torment, fading slowly as the days passed, bringing heartache to all who knew her.  
  
They had come to the Gray Havens—Elrond, Celébrian, her parents Galadriel and Celeborn, as well as Haldir and a host of Rivendell and Lothlórien retainers. Come to send the Lady Celébrian home to Valinor in the hopes that that fair land would cure her illness and help diminish the horrors she had experienced.  
  
The pain of the forthcoming separation was tangible on Elrond's face; and even now, years after, Haldir could see it in the elf's eyes. The days had been dark, and upon arriving, Haldir had sought to ease his mind from their grief with a swim amid the warm dark waters of the sea.  
  
He had not expected to find the elf staring at him as he rose out of the water, but she was pretty with her long blond hair, and mischievous eyes. He had noticed her earlier in the day, and had found the elf intriguing. A warrior, guard of Cirdan's, she arrived late, along with her father. She had assumed her post as her father spoke with Elrond of the journey.  
  
A few words to some Haldir knew there, and he had found out who she was and had hoped to speak with her. A night spent with someone so young and full of life might have erased from his mind the darkness brought about by Celébrian's imminent departure. But she had evaded him and he had spent the night alone.  
  
But he had not forgotten her.  
  
*~*  
  
Mairen crossed the steps into Meduseld, pulling open the heavy wooden portal only to step back at the sound of music and laughter that poured from the hall that was brightly lit with many torches. Gingerly skirting the fire in the center, Mairen pushed her way through the large crowd to where Willem leaned against a wooden pillar, holding two mugs of ale.  
  
"I hope one of those is for me?" she said as he sipped from one. Willem turned to her, and grinned, raising the other mug to drink from it as well.  
  
"You? Eru forgive me, but no, dearest Mairen." He laughed a bit sheepishly. "I did not want to have to make my way through this crowd again, so I took two." He chuckled and handed one to Mairen.  
  
Mairen took a drink and smiled. She slid next to Willem, gazing around the crowd hall. Eomer sat on his throne, leaning over to speak to Lothíriel, and her father. Eowyn and Faramir were sitting beside him, along with King Aragorn and Arwen on a wide bench. Willem reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"How are you feeling tonight?" he asked.  
  
Mairen took another sip of her ale. "I am fine, Willem."  
  
He reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "You will tell me if you feel odd?"  
  
Mairen sighed. "Aye, I will tell you." She patted his arm, but then turned as a deep voice spoke from beside her.  
  
"I've been told you have been ill," Aragorn said softly. "May I assist in some way?"  
  
Mairen hastily touched her forehead in greeting. "Thank you, my lord, but I must humbly refuse your kind offer. My ailment is nothing." Mairen saw his eyes search hers for several moments.  
  
"I think that is for me to decide, is it not?" The King's gaze moved to Willem. "You have not regained your sight?"  
  
Willem shrugged. "A loss I do not seem to miss overmuch." He smiled, his blue eyes staring blankly in front of him. "I see much more than I did when I could actually see."  
  
"If you have a moment I would like to see if there is anything I can do to help."  
  
Willem shook his head. "Thank you, my lord, but no. I know the elves cannot aid me so I fear only the Valar can return my sight. Perhaps it is a test for me, or a lesson. I only know that I have accepted it and fear it no longer."  
  
Aragorn nodded gravely. "I respect your wishes, Willem." He turned back to Mairen. "If I can help, you need only to ask." He bowed and moved away, lost quickly in the cheerful crowd.  
  
"An offer of aid from the Gondorian King, and you refuse," Willem reprimanded softly.  
  
Mairen pushed Willem's hand from her arm. "As did you, brother. I am fine. I need no help." She glanced at him, and then patted his hand and followed the King into the crowd.  
  
However, she should have chosen a different path, for as Aragorn reached Eomer's platform to return to his wife, Eomer also spied Mairen. She glanced at the young king and meant to move away into the crowd, but his question halted her in mid-step.  
  
"Have you had any more of your visions, Mairen?"  
  
Mairen bit her lip, unwilling to speak of the last one. "Nothing like the one in the Great Hall, my lord," she replied evasively.  
  
Eomer leaned on one hand, his brown eyes glittering in the torchlight. "But you have had one? Tell me, what did it entail?"  
  
Mairen faced the king. "My visions are nothing I can make sense of, only jumbled thoughts and scenes." She knew it was not the full truth and hoped the Valar would forgive her for being so ambiguous. She bowed her head, avoiding Eomer's compelling gaze.  
  
"I grow concerned that you suffer needlessly. Perhaps Aragorn can help dispel these things that linger in your mind," he began, but they were interrupted by Rolfe's sudden and angry cry. The hall grew quiet and many turned curiously toward him.  
  
"That is insane! I do not believe you!" Rolfe bellowed angrily. He slammed his ale onto the rough wooden table and leaned aggressively toward the Lórien elf that sat across from him.  
  
Haldir folded his arms over his chest, calmly eyeing the Rohirran captain. "Have you any other explanation?" The two did not seem to realize they have become the center of attention.  
  
Rolfe ran a hand through the tangles of his hair, glancing at Renny beside him. "No, but yours lacks much in believability," he argued, lowering his voice somewhat. He glared at the interested faces around him and many swiftly turned back to their previous partners.  
  
"For you perhaps," Haldir replied. "But I have seen it happen. I know of what I speak. There are few, true, but I can name them if you like."  
  
Rolfe shook his head, his glance moving around the room to focus on Mairen, who stood a few feet away. "It matters not. I would not know them."  
  
"You do not know Glorfindel?"  
  
Mairen flinched, for the image of a tall blonde elf rose instantly into her mind, and she knew without a doubt it must be this elf Haldir had mentioned. She folded her arms, hugging herself tightly, and glanced back at Eomer who was listening intently.  
  
"That tale is not true," Rolfe protested.  
  
Haldir only raised his brows.  
  
Rolfe ran his hand through his hair and exchanged a glance with Renny.  
  
"If it is true, what can you do? What more will happen?" Renny asked worriedly.  
  
Haldir stared at them for a moment and then shifted his gaze to Mairen as well. "She will continue as she has, with the dreams. She will have them more often, and the more she fights them, the stronger they will become, insisting on being known. If she does not accept them for what they are, she will grow weaker and weaker. Eventually she will die, if she does not starve to death first. Her own body will fight her mind." His gaze locked with Mairen's, challenging her to deny his words.  
  
"We have no hope then," Renny said in a low voice.  
  
"There is always hope," Haldir countered. "There are those who can help."  
  
Rolfe sat back, staring hard at the elf, and then turned when Haldir's gaze slid back to Mairen. Rolfe frowned, his expression growing grim as he studied her. "Why do I fear this is only a farce, a ruse designed to bring my sister back to your lands?"  
  
Again, Haldir's brows lifted. "Why would I do this, Rolfe?" he questioned evenly. "She saved my life. Surely I owe her the same. Is that difficult for you to understand?"  
  
Mairen felt the flood of disappointment again, brought on by the idea that she was only a debt to repay. A sense of despair crept over her, but she told herself she was being foolish. Why did it matter what he thought? She brushed away the errant thoughts, focusing on what Haldir was saying.  
  
"If I can assist her, then I am willing to do so," Haldir continued. "I do not care to see her fade to nothing. But she must accept it, as well as you. "  
  
Rolfe groaned, slumping slightly as Mairen moved a step closer. He sighed and turned sideways on the bench to stare at her in frustration. "I do not know what to do," he said to her. "I cannot force you to tell me what you see."  
  
Haldir's eyes moved to Mairen as well. "No, you cannot. Nor can I."  
  
*~*  
  
She had to leave. The crowded hall seemed to close around her suddenly, too many faces peering at her curiously, for many had heard as much as she had. Feeling the heat in her cheeks, she glanced about, then moved swiftly away from them all, weaving through the crowd to get to the door. Gamling saw her coming and frowned, but opened the large wooden portal without a word.  
  
Mairen nodded her thanks and slid out into the cool night air. She rushed to the edge of the platform, staring out longingly at the dark plain. Oh, to be free, free to ride the plain once more, with nary a thought inside her head, feeling only the wind on her face and her horse beneath her!  
  
She took a quivering breath as Haldir's words hounded her, repeating themselves over and over. She would die. Die! She didn't want to believe it was that serious, but in her heart she knew it could be so. She shivered, suddenly cold in the stiff wind, and hurried down the steps onto the dark street. The sky had darkened with rain clouds once more, and the air felt heavy with the threat of rain. She strode rapidly down the dirt path, her head reeling with the images she'd seen, with Haldir's words, and with her own fear.  
  
Needing to stop to catch her breath, she leaned on the corner of a low wooden house and rubbed her temple, willing the thoughts to fade. The wind ruffled the hem of her tunic, whipping up bits of sand into her face, moaning as it passed among the buildings of the city.  
  
Moaning, but not masking the sensation she suddenly had of being watched. She straightened, rubbing the grit from her eyes, and headed further down the street, heading toward the arena where she had fought Loriel. They must be following her again. She did not like having these new bodyguards.  
  
Did they think she was so helpless she couldn't defend herself? She was not that sick. Mairen saw a lance that had been left carelessly beside the fence and she moved toward it quickly. She leaped for the weapon, spinning the long shaft over her head as she whirled, taking a brief moment to focus on her assailant-protector.  
  
She had waited too long.  
  
Haldir leaned swiftly to one side as the lance swished over his head, narrowly missing him. He grasped the shaft in the same moment, twisting it as she tried to reverse her stroke, wresting it from one of her hands. The lance was spun, and Mairen gasped in shock as Haldir flipped it behind her, locking her elbow behind her back.  
  
Unwilling to let him win, she twisted, bringing up a knee, but he anticipated her move and kicked out with a foot to sweep her leg out from under her. They fell together, and Mairen fully expected to find herself buried under the elf, but somehow he rotated his body and instead she landed sprawled on his chest. For only a moment and then he rolled, pinning her beneath him.  
  
She squirmed beneath him, furious that he had disarmed her so easily, and struggled to slide out from beneath him, gasping for breath. He shifted as she squirmed, his knee trapping one side of her while he gripped one hand pinning it firmly to the ground. The other was still free and she felt for the lance she knew must be near, but again he anticipated her move and seized that wrist also, dragging it over her head to clamp both wrists together with an easy strength that infuriated her.  
  
"Stop fighting me, Mairen," she heard Haldir whisper but she could not. Her mind was swirling, her conscious thoughts fading as she struggled with both the elf pinning her to the ground and the images that began to churn inside her head.  
  
She was brought instantly back to the present as Haldir suddenly kissed her, releasing her wrists to slide his fingers into her hair, holding her still as his lips crushed hers. She couldn't think. This was so different from his other kiss, rough and angry and full of emotion. She gasped for breath when he slid his lips along her jaw, abruptly aware of his long, hard body stretched over hers. He sprawled on top of her, his muscled thighs clamped tightly against hers, pinning her arms with his elbows as his lips claimed hers once more.  
  
And, Valar help her, she was kissing him back. It seemed that she was helpless against the spiraling flare of heat running rampant through her veins. Helpless to fight off the surging tide of desire that was sweeping over her, drowning her in the heady wash of emotion she had evaded for so long. She moaned as his mouth devoured hers, aware only of the desperate sense of longing that coiled in the center of her body . . . a longing for him.  
  
Eventually she felt Haldir relax and ease his weight off from her, but he did not rise. Instead he gripped her wrists again, firmly holding her fast as she tried to catch her breath.  
  
She couldn't look at him. Was he aware of what he did to her? The intensity of her feelings terrified her. Were they even her own feelings?  
  
"Look at me, Mairen," she heard him command softly.  
  
She opened her eyes to find him leaning close to her, his silvery hair spilling over his shoulder to pool on hers. He had slid to his side, and held her wrists with one hand.  
  
"Let me go, Haldir," Mairen demanded breathlessly.  
  
Haldir did not, only smiled that lazy smile that sent more tendrils of fire coursing along her veins. "No."  
  
"You can't keep me here like this for long. Someone will come and wonder just what that Lórien elf is doing to poor Mairen," she whispered as he leaned closer.  
  
"I don't think anyone thinks of you as poor Mairen," Haldir responded with a soft laugh. "You chose the arena. I only followed."  
  
Mairen twisted, testing his hold, but he only tightened his grip. "And why were you following me? Can't you leave well enough alone?"  
  
Haldir gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "No, Mairen I cannot. Haven't you understood this? I can help you if you would only allow it."  
  
"Help me do what? Remember? I don't want to remember!"  
  
"But you must, Mairen. You must accept it."  
  
Mairen looked away, fighting the trembling that threatened to wash over her, fighting the sudden desire to let go and curl weeping into his arms. But she could not. She was not like that. She bit her lip. "I can't." She gasped as Haldir rolled to the side, pulling her with him as he stood up.  
  
"Mairen," he growled, pulling her against his chest. "Why do you fight it?"  
  
She sighed and to her surprise he released her and she stepped back. "Why fight it? I have someone else's memories in my mind and you ask why I fight it? Did Théoden?"  
  
Haldir's chin rose slightly. "This is not like what happened to Théoden."  
  
"No?" she objected. "How do I know this? How do you? Are you so sure?"  
  
Haldir reached out to pull her close to him, sliding his hands along her face. "I am as sure as I can be. But only Celeborn and Galadriel can be more certain? Why give up your life, Mairen?"  
  
She couldn't look away, his eyes held hers, dark and stormy with anger, and frustration. And, she could see, concern.  
  
"I am Rohirran, Haldir. My parents are Rohirran, and theirs before them, and theirs before them. If what you say is true, what does that make me? Who does that make me? I fear what I do not know, and I fear more of who I will become."  
  
Haldir wrapped an arm around her back, a steel band that pressed her firmly against him. She ignored the flaring desire that sprang to life once more, shoving her hands between them and against his chest. She pushed him away and but he only tightened his arms, trapping her hands.  
  
"Why?" Haldir asked. "She is as much a part of you as your eyes and hair. The signs are there. I leave tomorrow, Mairen. You must return to Lórien with me. You must understand the gravity of this. I cannot say how long you have. Each day will grow worse."  
  
The memory of Théoden's words flashed in her mind, his tale of her birth and the light. Had it begun then? She rested her forehead against her hands. Perhaps Haldir was right, but somehow she felt she could not go. Not yet, something within her held her back. She felt him sigh, and he slid his hands into her hair forcing her to look up at him.  
  
"I can say no more. It is your choice, Mairen." He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching her face, and then he let go, stepping back to leave her feeling cold and bereft. In a moment he was gone, silent as he had arrived, and Mairen shivered.  
  
He was gone from her sight, but she knew he was lodged firmly inside her heart. But was it her heart that cried out for the March Warden? Were they truly her feelings or that other in her mind? If she returned to the elves, what then would she become... who would she become? 


	9. And a New Path Taken

Chapter Nine:  
  
Mairen groaned, rolling over in her bed, pulling the thin blanket over her head to block out the ray of sun glaring into her eyes, while also trying to block out the intense pounding in her head. It was loud and incessant, and suddenly was joined by an irate male voice that made her sit up with a start, realizing the pounding was not only in her head but also upon her door.  
  
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staggering a bit as she stood up, holding the side of her head as she stumbled toward the door. She unlocked the door and stood back as it flew open with a crash that shook the wall behind it.  
  
"By the gods, Mairen. I thought you were dead!" Willem snarled, pushing his way into the room, brushing past her to feel for a chair and sat down with a relieved if annoyed sigh.  
  
Mairen shut the door carefully, and turned toward her brother. "Can a person not sleep, Willem?"  
  
Willem swiveled in the chair to face her. "Is that what you call it now? I've been pounding on your door for fifteen minutes. Are you all right?"  
  
Mairen sat down next to him at the small table, resting her head on her arms. "Aye, and I was sleeping, Willem. What else would I have been doing? Can one not sleep?"  
  
Willem snorted. "Sleep, aye, but until nearly four in the afternoon? You'd think you'd been up all night?" He leaned forward on the table, his brows drawing over his eyes. "You weren't up all night were you?"  
  
Mairen rubbed her temples. Why such a headache today? Four O'clock? She sat up staring at her brother. "Four? Is it that late?" she sighed and rubbed harder. "No, I have not been up all night, what makes you think that?"  
  
Willem leaned back into the chair, and it gave a loud squeak in protest. "No reason, sister. Only Eamon said the elf Haldir followed you outside last night from the hall. Should he have followed?"  
  
"Should who have followed?" Mairen asked, deliberately misunderstanding Willem's question. They must not have worried overly much of her welfare for she had seen no one.  
  
Willem smiled, and Mairen sat back staring at her amused brother. "I think you know exactly what I mean, Mairen. Do not play the coy maiden, for you are not. I know that Haldir followed you, for I followed him."  
  
Mairen blushed, thankful for once for Willem's blindness. "So you don't trust him?"  
  
Willem grinned. "I trusted him to do what he felt needed to be done. And I trusted him to follow those codes most elves abide by, he more so than most I have ever met. I feared not for you, Mairen, but more for him." Willem chuckled and leaned forward to stare at her with his luminous blue eyes, eyes that could still stab through you.  
  
Mairen stood up, but Willem caught her wrist. "You have feelings for this elf, Mairen. How much?"  
  
She looked down at her brother. "What does it matter, Willem?"  
  
Willem rose to stand beside her. "It matters a lot, Mairen. Will you not admit to anything anymore? Where is the sister I once knew, who told me her hearts desires, and wishes? Her dreams." He slid his hands up her arms to pull her close. "I only worry about you, Mairen."  
  
She hugged him for a moment and then moved back. "I know. I cannot explain right now." She strode to the window, noting the sun was indeed high.  
  
"So you will not be sad to know the elves have left."  
  
She froze as dismay swept through her. He had said he was leaving. They had really not said good-bye. Was he sorry? She wondered. She touched her lips, thinking of his kiss. How different it had been. She had lain awake most the night thinking of it, wondering what it meant to him. What she meant to him. That kiss said he felt something. But was it for her, or someone else? She shook her head, for those thoughts had hounded her all night.  
  
Willem moved to the window, resting his hands on her shoulders. "They left but Haldir said to tell you he will be waiting. For you cannot deny what you must do."  
  
Rolfe sat at the table, waiting for the inevitable, knowing in his heart his decision was sound, but also knowing the furor it would create would be as difficult to handle as fighting off a hoard of Orcs. He rested his head in his hands, groaning at the image and waited.  
  
Mairen strode into the stables, her boots clicking on the wooden planking as she made her way toward Epona's stall. She nodded to Gamling, who stood in the next stall, brushing his horse, and then turned to Epona to stare in shock at the empty stall.  
  
"Where is Epona?" she asked Gamling, as he stared at her curiously.  
  
He shrugged. "Renny took her with him this morning, I thought you were leaving as well? Did they not tell you?"  
  
Mairen stared at the captain in horror. "Renny? He's gone?"  
  
Gamling moved to the stall door. "Aye, he traded patrols with Frenden, although I do not know why, and they left this morning for the borders."  
  
Mairen stepped back and then spun, running out of the stable.  
  
Rolfe heard her coming and braced himself, still holding his head in his hands. The door was flung open, slamming loudly against the wall as Mairen strode into the room.  
  
"What have you done with Epona?"  
  
Rolfe sighed and straightened to look at his sister. "She is gone."  
  
Mairen curled her hands into fists and Rolfe winced slightly. "I realize that, Rolfe. Where has she gone?" she asked tightly, her green- brown speckled eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
Rolfe leaned his elbows on the table. "With Renny. She will be gone until I give him word to return."  
  
Mairen stared at her brother in shock. "Word to return? She is my horse! You have no right to send her off with him!"  
  
Rolfe stared up at her, his brown eyes dark with determination. "No right? I am head of this family, Mairen, and will do what I must to protect us."  
  
Mairen marched forward to lean on the table, her eyes flashing with fury. "I don't care if you are the King! I want Epona, now!"  
  
Rolfe sat back, one brow lifting slowly as he stared at her, and Mairen straightened. "You don't care? Don't care?" he growled, rising to lean his fists on the table, his eyes narrowed now in his own fury. "You have had dreams that you do not speak of, you nearly burned to death in the great hall, and the elf says this will only continue until you weaken and die unless you accept what they mean. And you don't care? Dammit, Mairen. I do!" He stood up, shoving an agitated hand through his hair. "I sent Renny with Epona and you are hereby ordered to stay within this city until I say otherwise. You have been released from duty."  
  
Mairen stared at him in horror. "Released from duty? You can't do that, Rolfe."  
  
Rolfe moved away from the table to stare out the window. "I can. I have already spoken to Eomer. So he will not help you."  
  
"Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
Rolfe turned back to face her, his demeanor inflexible. "Because I must, to protect you. Until you find some way to cure yourself of these visions and dreams, I will not endanger my men, or anyone else with your distraction."  
  
Mairen stumbled back as if physically hit. "I would not endanger your men, Rolfe. But this is not fair. What am I to do?"  
  
Rolfe frowned, his gaze sliding over her. "I don't know, Mairen. That will be for you to decide."  
  
Haldir stood at the edge of the flet with distant gaze toward the edge of the forest. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the canopy above him, dappling the wooden platform in blotches of green tinted light. The wardens with him watched his back, their concerned gazes touching him briefly before they too turned to face the forest.  
  
How long had he stood here, staring at the distant border of his lands, yet his mind flew miles from there, seeking a connection that was as yet still closed to him. He frowned, gripping the long bow in his hand. It was too close, the day of her reckoning was fast approaching; he could feel it. He glanced behind him at the wardens gathered on the flet, but then turned back to stare once more out into the distance.  
  
The messenger slipped through the trees, and his approach quickly caught Haldir's attention. Haldir slid his bow over his back, and climbed down out of the flet, gracefully dropping out of the tree to meet the elf.  
  
"By your leave, March Warden," the elf greeted him, with a hand to his heart. "I bring word from Orophin and Rúmil. Orcs, a large party, heading their way."  
  
Haldir frowned and with a quick glance at the wardens who hovered near, nodded. "Well done, I will send for reinforcements." The elves slid through the trees, disappearing quickly into the shadows of the forest.  
  
Rúmil crouched down on the sturdy branch, only a few trees separating him from the open expanse of grassy verge that separated the woods of Lórien from the banks of the Celebrant. He glanced down, noting the elves below him as they spread closer to the edge of the woods, the rank smell of Orc burning his nostrils as he waited.  
  
They were irrational, these Orcs to come so boldly to the edge of the wood. Rúmil gripped his bow, an arrow nocked and ready, as he crouched.  
  
Orophin moved to the last tree facing the river, sliding behind the narrow trunk, to peer around it. Like Rúmil above him, his thoughts pondered the reasons for the Orcs being so foolhardy, for they camped within broad site of the wood, just outside of bow range.  
  
Were they baiting the elves? Did they think to draw them out into the open to fight, while more hid among the rocks along the stream? Did they think the elves so foolish? He didn't think it likely and that worried him even more.  
  
The elves settled in to wait, and Orophin sank down in a crouch, leaning on his bow as he watched the Orcs carefully. How long he leaned there he was not sure but the pressure of Haldir's hand on his shoulder was welcome as he rose to face his brother.  
  
"They sit as if waiting. I don't like it." Orophin muttered softly, his glance returning to the far camp. He turned back to Haldir. "Do we advance?"  
  
Haldir shook his head, his gaze scanning the forest, noting the elves that waited. "Nay, it is what they want. Let them wait, as we wait. They can make the first move." He gestured to another, and the elf slipped through the trees toward them. "I will send word to the Lady to reinforce the other borders. I know not if this is only a diversion, but will not take any chances."  
  
The elf left quickly with his message, and Haldir climbed high into the tree with Orophin, returning Rúmil's signal with a trilling whistle. Haldir leaned against the trunk of the tree as Orophin settled on a branch below him.  
  
"The Orcs grow hungry," Orophin murmured quietly. "I have had word they come from Moria in large packs, hoping to snare an unwary elf during the night." He glanced up at Haldir. "It does not bode well for any travelers."  
  
Haldir frowned, gripping his bow tightly. "I am aware of that, Orophin. We can only protect those who are near." He settled back against the tree, his icy gaze trained on the far camp.  
  
Celeborn paced restlessly, his silver hair falling in a soft sheen down his back as Galadriel followed him with her gaze. He turned, flashing her a brief glint of icy blue eyes and then turned back to pace again, his hands gripped together behind his back.  
  
"It does no good to pace, Celeborn," Galadriel said softly, smiling as she rose to walk toward him.  
  
Celeborn glanced at her, an ironic smile easing the frowning lines from his face. "Ah, of course not, but one must do something. I fear it is times like this that I grow impatient."  
  
Galadriel's eyes twinkled with laughter, amid her own concern. "Impatient? Dear Celeborn, you are a patient as a rock, and as solid. Fear not for them, for they stand firm." She rested her hand on his arm and he relaxed, squeezing it tightly.  
  
"I do not fear for Haldir, Galadriel, or his wardens. The Orcs play their games. We have countered their attempts at distraction and the borders are guarded well. Nay, it is other thoughts that have me concerned."  
  
Galadriel pulled Celeborn to sit, staring at her husband with a frown. "I know well of your worries. Haldir too grows concerned, for her time nears quickly. The weeks since his return have flown past. She reaches her age of majority soon, if what Haldir told me is true. Her brothers say her birthing day lies late in the summer."  
  
Celeborn sighed, gripping Galadriel's hand. "I have not been able to connect again since that first time. The maid guards her thoughts now. I cannot tell how she fares."  
  
Galadriel rubbed his hand. "Haldir has a slim sense of her, though nothing really tangible. She has the stone. She knows what it can do. She will use it."  
  
Celeborn looked at her. "Will she? Does she truly understand? Haldir said she would not listen. A story too farfetched for her to comprehend her danger."  
  
Galadriel smiled. "Aye, for the Rohirran. But inside her mind lies someone else, and I have to believe eventually she will understand what she must do."  
  
Celeborn glanced at her with a worried frown. "But will it be in time, Galadriel? Will it be in time?"  
  
Mairen threw the mug against the wall of her room as the ache grew inside her head, spilling ale over the wood to run in pale streaks to the floor. Another headache, another vision, they had grown worse as the days passed. The elf had been right and it irritated her to know how much.  
  
She sank against the wall, rubbing her forehead in an all too familiar habit. The dreams bombarded her every night now, and she often sat morosely staring at the fire, unable to prevent them and unable to understand what they meant. All she knew was that she was beginning to despise the person whose memories she shared.  
  
That's what they were, she realized. She grasped that concept even with her vague understanding of Haldir's explanation, memories. Not her own, but of another. What did that mean? Why was she receiving these memories, now all of a sudden? She leaned her head back, groaning in frustration. Why?  
  
She rested her forehead on her hand, staring blankly at the sodden wall. Weeks and weeks of forced inactivity with only the growing memories to hound her had driven her nearly insane. Rolfe was adamant and had not recalled Renny. And Willem had not helped either. Since when had he become Haldir's ally? He had sided with the elf, and she wondered perhaps if the blow to his head had addled his brains. He had not thought that funny and had avoided her for days.  
  
She wished she had not been so stubborn. Now what to do? She knew she was growing weaker. The thought of food made her nauseous, and sleeping was a rarity anymore. A few spare minutes of complete exhaustion to fall asleep, and then the dreams would return. She didn't dare walk to the walls anymore, fearing she'd not be able to walk back up the hill. And she feared more that her brothers would see her as weak and helpless.  
  
She never wanted to be weak. Had learned to bear the fiercest pain in silence. Had trained countless hours to be an equal. And now it was all gone. She wondered if she could even throw a lance with any skill?  
  
And for what? What purpose lay in her mind to stubbornly refuse the help that was offered? She shook her head, unable to voice an answer that would not sound childish. She brushed away a tear roughly with the back of her hand.  
  
Fear. In all her years she had fought against fear, hiding it, trying to control it, but in the end, it had reared its ugly head and swept away her control. Fear of the unknown, fear of her lack of control of her mind, fear of caring for a creature so unlike herself. Fear of her own emotions. She pushed herself to her feet, and made her way to the door.  
  
It was time to acknowledge her fear.  
  
Willem stared at Mairen; his eyes trained on her, but his expression distant, his gaze dim. She sat with her head on her arms, wearied beyond measure and he seemed to feel it, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.  
  
Eamon leaned against the door, his arms folded over his chest, his face inscrutable as he gazed at Mairen. Rolfe sat next to her and leaned closer to put an arm around her shoulders.  
  
The night had been long, as she described dreams, memories of what she saw, avoiding the few she could not bear to tell. Her brothers had listened, at first unwilling to believe, but now sat around her in silence, unsure of what more to say.  
  
"Why did you not tell us sooner, Mairen?" Rolfe asked softly, squeezing her shoulder.  
  
Mairen did not look up, only sighed. "I am afraid, Rolfe." She sat up, her eyes dark, her face pale. "I am afraid of what it all means. Haldir told you I have the fëa of an elf inside me? That I have been reborn? But I am not an elf I am Rohirran. I have parents that are of a long line of Rohan people. You are my brothers. It makes no sense."  
  
Rolfe frowned. "I know, but what he says fits. You are having memories of an elf, things you should never know, words you can speak as if you were born to them."  
  
Mairen shuddered, hiding her face in her hands. "I know, but I am afraid. I do not want to be this elf... I do not like her!"  
  
Rolfe sat back. "You are not her, Mairen, you are who you are. No matter what her memories are, you will not become her."  
  
Mairen took a deep wavering breath. This had been so hard, and she was so tired. "I wish I could believe that. Truly I do."  
  
Rolfe gripped her arms, pulling her around to face him. "You must, for if Haldir words are true, if you do not then you will die, Mairen. You have to accept these memories as yours."  
  
Mairen sighed staring at her brothers in defeat. "I do not know how."  
  
Rolfe glanced at Eamon, and Willem, reaching out to touch the blind one's hand. "Then you must go to Lórien."  
  
Mairen watched as Renny rode into the stable, dimly aware that Epona followed, but her sight blurred as another memory took hold.  
  
Seothlindë. She knew the name now. Not that it mattered. She was a separate entity in her mind. Controlling her thoughts, her feelings, nearly overwhelming Mairen with her memories. Mairen had come to despise her.  
  
The elf was young, from what Mairen could make out, but yet a warrior of great strength and ability. She had felt this, known it inherently as she fought in her remembrances. She had trained among the best. A trait Mairen found too similar to her own.  
  
But the last memory had shaken Mairen, the last memory of the elf as she stood guard duty, at the harbor. She faced the sea, her keen eyes seeing far out into the horizon, the bustle of the wharf a distant murmur as she focused on the tiny vessel sailing into the bay.  
  
It was not unusual for the elven city to gain visitors of all nations, for indeed they were a harbor, and many sailed to and from the elvish port in trade. Humans, a few dwarves, races that to Seothlindë defiled the pristine elvish stronghold with their presence. But one she was often forced to endure.  
  
She followed the vessel, and then ignored it, noting its human origins. Weak, pathetic creatures, they knew no honor. Understood nothing of what grace and elegance and knowledge stood for. No, they only sought supremacy through greed and corruption. They destroyed beauty in the name of power. She sneered at their efforts to rule the world, and was dismayed at the retreat of her own people.  
  
How could they give in? How could they relinquish the hold of their lands, leaving them to the humans? Seothlindë did not understand, and found fault in the race of men.  
  
Mairen shuddered at the emotions she felt, agonized over the unwillingness to see another side. How could the elf be so cold? She didn't understand her. Didn't want to.  
  
She rubbed her forehead, preparing once more for the onslaught of memory, unaware of the concerned gazes that flew to her as she slid in a heap in the middle of the stable.  
  
She stared at the vessel, watching it weave erratically toward the shore, angling first one way and then the next, as if no one handled the rudder, or did so while distracted by something else. They couldn't even sail true, she thought irritably, as the vessel narrowly missed another, angling once more toward the wharf.  
  
Seothlindë marched toward the pier, signaling the other guard to follow, gripping the long sword at her hip in irritation. Her father was gone for the day, and as Harbor Master he would have inspected the vessel as it docked. She would have to do it for him, and frowned in distaste.  
  
The warden paused beside her as she waited for the vessel to draw near, stepping back as the humans rushed to toss ropes to the elves on the pier. The vessel bumped roughly against the stone, and several men sprang out, turning quickly to face her.  
  
"Where have you been, and what is your purpose here?" she asked diffidently, her eyes narrowed as they bowed for a moment.  
  
"We seek aid, warden. For we have sick on board."  
  
Seothlindë frowned. "There is none here who can aid you, seek out another harbor, where there are human healers." She turned around, but one of the men caught her arm.  
  
"We have sought other harbors, and healers. They cannot help, but told us that the elves are great healers in themselves. Please, it is my mother, you must help us."  
  
Seothlindë stared rudely at the man's hand, and he released her.  
  
"There are none who will aid you, human. Leave, for you will find nothing here." She spun around and marched away from the dock, her cloak flaring out behind her. The man stared and then raced behind her, turning her roughly around only to back away at the sword that was drawn and pointed at him.  
  
"Touch me not," she hissed.  
  
The man dropped to his knees, shaking. "Please, I beg you, it is a matter of life and death."  
  
Mairen sat up, sweating profusely, horrified at the coldness that filled her heart. I would have helped him, she thought desperately. No matter, I would have helped.... She drifted off into a welcome darkness, unaware of the arms that carried her home.  
  
Haldir sheathed his sword, scanning the forest around him as the elves gathered close. Orcs lay in heaps, their recent battle still echoing in Haldir's mind. The Northern fences had been harried constantly in the past few weeks, along with the southern border by the Moria Orcs. Bereft of the power by Sauron, the Orcs were no longer controlled, and fell into packs of snarling evil that preyed on everything. If they would only fight among themselves, Haldir thought, but the Orcs had thought to gain other fare for dinner, to their demise. But still the attacks had to be rebuffed, and Haldir had spent the past weeks plotting defense after defense, tracking the creatures, and sending his brothers to the southern fences to guard them while he traveled north.  
  
He had a nagging feeling that he would regret that choice.  
  
He strode away from the carnage, thrusting past a large thicket of brush, to reach the trees that held the guard flets. He rose into the canopy, climbing effortlessly and pulled himself onto the platform. One of his messengers waited and Haldir spoke with him, sending him quickly back to the city with news.  
  
That done, he moved to the edge of the platform, watching the work below with a distant gaze. The elves worked tirelessly, piling the bodies of the Orcs and burning them. Haldir was thankful the wind blew the stench away from him. He knew that in itself was also a disadvantage, as it would lure more of the Orcs to his borders.  
  
He gripped the hilt of his sword, his grey eyes narrowed in distaste. A whisper brushed his mind; a tiny tendril of thought that slowly seeped into his consciousness. With a start Haldir stiffened, cocking his head, searching his mind for an echo of that thought. He gripped his bow in frustration, knowing that the slim connection he had to Mairen was tangible yet tentative. With her inability to focus and unaware of how to use the inherent magic of her soul to join their thoughts with any strength, she was using more her own willfulness to connect with him. But she did, if fleetingly, a brief moment of clarity that brought a sudden curse to his lips and he spun, shouldering his bow as he flew down out of the tree.  
  
He could not reach the border before she did. She was riding straight for his southern border, and the Orcs.  
  
Mairen leaned back precariously, her mind too weary to think, holding onto the pommel of the saddle as she swayed in the slow gate of Epona's steps. Willem leaned beside her, feeling for her arm and pulled her upright.  
  
"Even I can tell that you do not sit your horse as you should, Mairen. Do I need to make you ride with me or Eamon?"  
  
Mairen forced her mind to clear. She gripped the reins, gritting her teeth. "Nay, I will not ride with another. I will tie myself to the saddle if need be, but will ride my own horse." She glanced at her brother as he shook his head.  
  
"You will arrive only because of your stubbornness." He groused, but patted her knee.  
  
Mairen sighed, and fumbled in the pocket of her tunic, finally drawing out the worry stone to stare at it. She remembered Loriel's words, and Haldir's. Had he truly been able to see her thoughts, as she had, by its power? She knew he had seen her memory of him, known instantly the moment he had connected. Was it the stone that had enabled him to do so? And would the stone connect them again, this far? She hoped so. She gripped the stone in her hand, closing her eyes briefly, feeling it warm, the heat spreading up her arm. She focused her thoughts to one thing, picturing Haldir as she remembered him, consciously keeping that other vision of him in the recesses of her mind, but seeing him as the warrior he'd been, at Helm's Deep, fighting Orc after Orc in a graceful dance of death. I am coming she thought desperately again, having done so several times as they rode toward the lands of Lothlórien. The darkness seeped in on the edges of her thoughts. I am coming to you for aid. She bowed her head, but then sat up as an image of trees she could not see flashed in her mind, their golden leaves fluttering in a breeze she did not feel, and heard a curse in elvish that she was sure she did well not to understand. The darkness grew, and she knew no more.  
  
"Please I beg you, it's a matter of life and death!" the man had said.  
  
Seothlindë ignored him and turned back around only to come face to face with the very elf of her dreams. She had not known he was coming. She stepped back as he frowned, pushing past her.  
  
"Such little compassion, warden. Have you no heart?" The March Warden gripped the man's arm pulling him to his feet. "Where are your sick?"  
  
Seothlindë gasped. "You do not intend to heal them?"  
  
Haldir turned back to the harbor warden. "Indeed, I do. The Valar give us gifts, Seothlindë, to use them, not to hoard them for ourselves."  
  
He turned back, following the man onto the docks, disappearing into the hold of the tiny vessel.  
  
Seothlindë hurried after him, drawing back at the stench of the hold, holding her nose as she stared through the gloom.  
  
Haldir was bent over a prone woman, her face nearly gray, resisting the pull of death with a last effort, her watery eyes locked with the March Warden's. He eased beside her, his large frame blocking much of Seothlindë's view. He spoke softly, soothingly, and bent over, placing his hands around the woman's damp face.  
  
After a few long moments, she sat up, clutching the elf's tunic desperately, her face flushed suddenly with color, and then Haldir gripped her arms gently, lowering her back to the cot. In moments she closed her eyes, her face no longer gray, but pale, her breathing soft, but unhampered. The man bent to his knees, clutching Haldir's hand.  
  
"I cannot thank you enough, my lord."  
  
Haldir pulled the human to his feet. "I am no lord, but only a warden, a guardian. She will sleep, and will need food as soon as she wakes." The man nodded and Haldir made his way out of the hold back into the bright sunlight.  
  
Seothlindë followed again, and pushed past the other elves to grip Haldir's sleeve.  
  
"They are insignificant, mere mortals! Why?"  
  
Haldir stopped, his grey eyes narrowed on her face. "Who are we to think ourselves above them, Seothlindë? I would aid a dwarf, though I like them not, as I have the human, for I carry a gift that I must pass on. You would do well to leave the ill feeling you hold behind you, for I fear the tidings of evil will sweep you away."  
  
Seothlindë gasped, stepping back out of his path and the March Warden bowed slightly.  
  
"I thought we might have some things in common, but I see you have yet much to learn about life. Perhaps when you grow in both age and spirit we shall find each other again." He smiled, a bit sadly. "I do not think you are yet ready."  
  
Mairen woke with a start, remembering the scent of the hold of the tiny ship, and it still stung her nose. She rubbed it unconsciously and then froze as the realization of just what the smell she now breathed was hit her.  
  
"Orcs!" she screamed at the same time Willem did, drawing back on her reins, spinning Epona around as the patrol began to splash through the river in front of them. Willem bent over the side of his roan to avoid a black arrow that hurdled only inches from his face. The other Rohirrim split, forming their lines of defense and Mairen urged Epona through the shallow water, releasing her lance to grip it tightly in her hand.  
  
The Orcs swarmed out of the rocks, and a Rohirran guard fell in front of Mairen.  
  
The Rohirrim spread out, lances thrown with deadly accuracy, but Mairen gripped hers, knowing she would not be able to wield her sword. She gripped Epona with her knees, whirling the lance to strike the advancing Orcs as they drew near, while Epona snapped and bit anything that came close. They moved back out of her reach and Mairen suddenly was afraid.  
  
She had not the strength to kill, nor barely maim. Around her Rohirrim fought bravely and Orcs fell, but more flooded out from the rocks. The great trees of Lothlórien swayed in the near distance, close yet too far.  
  
Willem charged past her, still gripping his lance. He swung at the Orcs that had backed away from Mairen, scattering them. She didn't know if it was merely luck or his intuition, but was grateful for his intervention.  
  
The Orcs were howling, the horses screaming, and Mairen twisted as several advanced rapidly toward her. The darkness hovered on the edge of her vision and Mairen shook her head to clear it. She would not let it take her; she could not. She drew her dagger from her boot, and with a brief shudder jabbed the point into her thigh, hissing at the shock of pain.  
  
The darkness fled amid the pain, and Mairen bent over, trembling as she held the bloody knife in her hand, her lance leveled toward the advancing Orcs. The other Rohirrim had moved away from her, and she spun Epona in a circle, swinging the lance around in an arc to hold off the evil creatures.  
  
They laughed, seeing her as easy prey. Mairen snarled, swinging her lance over her head and swiping it at the closest Orc. To her horror the creature caught the lance, laughing at her shock, and with a jerk that was far too easy, swept her off Epona to land in the shallow water of the river.  
  
Mairen stood up, still gripping her knife and whistled a keening note. Epona snorted, and spun around, leaping into the air. With amazing strength the horse kicked out her hind feet, slamming the Orc nearest her in the head. He fell back and Epona screamed, rearing up on hind legs. Mairen spun as an arrow whistled past her head, ducking the shaft, and then crouched shivering amid the boulders of the river, watching in despair as the other Orcs advanced on her slowly.  
  
One picked up the lance that floated near the fallen Orc, staring at it in anger, and snapped it cleanly in two, throwing aside the tail end. He hefted the short spear in his hand, and turned to Mairen, wading toward her in the shallow water.  
  
Mairen drew back, but the Orc guessed her intention, slamming the spear across her stomach. She bent over gasping for air, twisting to embed her knife into the Orc but it only growled slapping the thin dagger out of her hand. It lashed out with a beefy arm throwing her onto her back into the river. She had only a moment to prepare for the worst, throwing her arm protectively over her face, but then dragged herself back to her feet when the blow never came. The Orc lay face down in the water, and she sucked in a deep breath at the elvish arrow that protruded from his back.  
  
She heard the elves, calling out to the others, and picked up the remains of her lance. She whistled for Epona, turning to search for the horse when she was knocked off her feet once more into the water. She fell face down, gasping at the shock of the cold water, and struggled to rise again. She stood up, flinging off her helmet and shoving her wet hair out of her face to stare at the Orc looming over her.  
  
She wasn't fast enough to avoid the fist that knocked her back off her feet, groaning as the cold atrophied muscles far too weak for this fight, and she resisted the Orc feebly as it grabbed her tunic, lifting her into the air.  
  
She slammed the short spear across its face, and the Orc snarled, drawing her closer to its leering mouth, rank with decay.  
  
Mairen writhed desperately, and it dropped her. The Orc raised its sword, but froze as he swept out his arm, finally falling toward her into the water with another elvish arrow in his back. She looked frantically around for the elves and could see them running toward the river.  
  
Mairen slogged through the water, her feet numb, and then gasped as she was spun around, moaning as the Orc arrow slammed into her shoulder and she sank into the water once more.  
  
She was going to drown. The will to move her limbs was gone, and she held her breath, struggling to gain control. She was yanked roughly out of the water, rolled onto her back on the rocks and she opened her eyes to find Orophin bending over her, his blue eyes raking over her body.  
  
"Anything else other than the arrow?" He asked quickly, unable to tell for sure from the blood that splattered her clothes.  
  
Mairen's teeth chattered. "N...no." she gasped, with cold as well as pain.  
  
Orophin glanced quickly around him. And then bent close. "I have to break off the end, and push it through. It has only hit muscle, but cannot pull it out, the tip is barbed."  
  
Mairen nodded feebly.  
  
Orophin quickly snapped off the end of the arrow, ignoring her hiss of pain, and then shoved the shaft through her shoulder. Mairen shuddered violently, and she groaned, gritting her teeth to hold in her cry of pain.  
  
Orophin rose, shouting for Rúmil and he ran over, dragging Epona with him. Orophin gripped Mairen's tunic and hoisted her onto Epona's back quickly, as Rúmil left them to hold off several Orcs heading their way.  
  
Orophin turned as Loriel gripped his shoulder. "I will ride with her. You are needed here more," she stated and mounted quickly behind Mairen as Orophin nodded.  
  
"Ride quickly, Loriel. Haldir will be coming on the road from the north. She is very weak."  
  
Loriel nodded, kicking her feet and Epona leaped forward, over several Orcs to fly toward the tree line and safety.  
  
Haldir raced down the path, drawn by fear and frustration as he ran swiftly, his bow held in his hand, over the well-worn trail.  
  
He could feel her fear. The connection had been opened and he felt the terror that rushed over her. And could do nothing.  
  
He leaped over a shallow dip in the path, landing solidly on the other side, hardly breaking his stride, his cloak flaring out behind him as he ran.  
  
She was still there, and for that he was thankful. He could feel the connection growing thin again, as if stretched. He grasped for it in his mind, aware of his steps yet focused on the tiny thread bridging him with Mairen.  
  
Only a few more leagues, he thought, and then drew back as the sound of the horse galloping toward him echoed in the forest. He drew aside the path, and waited the few moments it took for Loriel to appear amid the leaf- covered trail, reining in the roan. Epona reared back, but settled down quickly as Loriel let go of Mairen and Haldir pulled her into his arms.  
  
Mairen groaned as Haldir laid her gently on the ground, spinning to look at Loriel. "The others?"  
  
Loriel frowned, gripping Epona's reins tightly. "Still fighting. The Rohirrim fight well, I only saw one or two down. But the odds are evenly matched."  
  
Haldir waved his hand. "Go back, I will take her. More are coming."  
  
Loriel nodded and spun Epona around, urging the balking horse to her command to ride back the way she had come. Haldir bent down, gathering Mairen in his arms to stride back along the path. In moments the elves following him passed him, a brief questioning glance answered by his gaze and then he was once again alone with Mairen.  
  
She was trembling, whether with cold or pain or both he was not sure and he stopped, laying her again on the ground.  
  
"Mairen, can you hear me?"  
  
Mairen opened her eyes, fully green now and blinked, biting her lips to stop them from quivering. "Aye." She whispered.  
  
"You're freezing, and injured. I have to take off your tunic to get to the wound on your shoulder, and rid you of the wet clothes."  
  
Mairen smiled feebly. "You can't look though." She laughed weakly and Haldir shook his head in exasperation, reaching out to unbuckle the armor at her sides. She shivered violently, and he pulled the leather armor away, pulling his knife out of his boot. With a quick slice up the sides of her tunic, he eased the woolen garment off.  
  
"Where is your mail? Mairen, you have no chain mail on."  
  
Mairen gripped his sleeve. "T..too heavy. I couldn't s..stand it."  
  
Haldir frowned. "How often do they come?"  
  
Mairen curled into his arms as he wrapped his cloak around her. "Too much, I get n...no rest." She shuddered as the leggings came off, along with her boots. The rush of cool air did not help and her teeth chattered loudly.  
  
Haldir pushed her back against the ground, sliding his hands along her body, noting the thinness with narrowed eyes, and then probed her shoulder gently. "Who pushed the arrow out?"  
  
Mairen blinked, as the warmth of his hands sent a different kind of shiver through her. "O..Orophin."  
  
Haldir gave a sigh of relief, and then pressed on her shoulder. Mairen closed her eyes as the shock of the heat swept through her shoulder, and suddenly the pain ebbed to a dull ache. She took a deep breath, still frozen but at least free from most of the pain. She gasped when Haldir's hand brushed her thigh.  
  
"This is not from an Orc blade," he hissed, drawing her attention to his face. The grey eyes stared at her, searching.  
  
"N..nay.. I did it."  
  
Haldir's chin rose in surprise. "Why?" he whispered.  
  
"The d..darkness.. was coming. I couldn't let it take o..over..." she whispered back, and shook as a violent tremor swept through her.  
  
Haldir's lips thinned and he bent over her, drawing his cloak around her body. "I have to get you back to Caras Galadhon."  
  
Mairen closed her eyes, but shook her head. "No! My brothers, you must help them."  
  
Haldir picked her up, holding her close to him. "They are in good hands, Mairen, do not fear for them."  
  
Mairen sighed, enfolded in Haldir's arms felt glorious, the warmth of his cloak calming the shivering of her limbs.  
  
"Am I in good hands, Haldir?" she whispered, resting her head against his chest as his arms tightened around her.  
  
"Aye, you're in mine, Mairen. You could have no better." 


	10. A New Beginning or End?

Chapter 10: A New Beginning or an End?  
  
Haldir sat on the chair beside the bed, watching Mairen sleep. A magically induced sleep, true, and he knew he'd have to explain his actions to two obstinate Rohirrim when they found out. Healing and magic sleep would not ease their minds that the elves had not caused Mairen's ailment.  
  
For that was what those brothers of hers still considered Mairen's visions- an ailment. Had she explained more since he had left their land? Logic suggested she must have in order to convince them to come here to Lórien. What now did they think? Did they believe what he had told them? Or did they bring her because they knew not what else to do?  
  
Either way, she was here now, earning a much-needed rest, for the magic kept all dreams and visions at bay and allowed her to sleep deeply. She needed that as much as food. Haldir gazed at her, his fingers tracing the veins in her wrist while he noted the new thinness of her arms. She had changed much since the last time he had seen her.  
  
Mairen moaned softly, but did not wake, only curled up on her side, her hand brushing his on the blanket. He touched her fingers and at once they wrapped around his, and then she sighed in her sleep. He gazed down at their linked hands, and then leaned forward, wrapping her hands between both of his while he studied her face.  
  
So long ago did it seem, that day when she had found him surrounded by Orcs. He remembered little of the battle after she arrived, but he was sure she must have defended him with that same stubborn determination he had begun to admire, even he did not completely agree with it. He smiled a little, remembering her slap. As volatile as most humans were, that had surprised him. No elf would have dared to do that, nor most humans either.  
  
His head turned when an elf thrust aside the cloth door to the tent. "Rúmil and Orophin return. They bring the Rohirrim."  
  
Haldir glanced at Mairen. "Stay with her, if she wakes come and find me."  
  
The elf nodded and stood aside as Haldir moved past him, and ducked beneath the low doorway.  
  
The Rohirrim were dismounting when he arrived, staring at the city around them in apparent awe, while a group of nearby elves gazed back in distinct surprise. The event of a group of such mortals allowed inside the city was such a rarity that it always drew the curious.  
  
As Haldir approached, Rúmil and Orophin both turned to face him, Mairen's brothers only a step behind.  
  
"She is well," he answered their unspoken question. He met Eamon's gaze as the Rohirran pushed his way past the elves.  
  
"Where is she? I want to see her."  
  
Willem held Eamon's shoulder, and Haldir noticed Willem's sleeve was soaked with blood, but neither Rohirrim seemed to notice. "She sleeps," Haldir explained carefully, watching Eamon's eyes narrow slightly. "And it looks like Willem is injured. I suggest you rest and let us tend you."  
  
Eamon's hand clamped down on Haldir's arm. "She sleeps? She was wounded the last I saw her. Your brother removed the arrow, but she looked nearly dead when they took her."  
  
Wary of the Rhohirrim, Haldir pulled his arm free and considered the man before him. The Rohan warrior's expression was concerned, yet beneath that Haldir could sense the man's distrust. He seemed defensive, yet ready to strike out at the least bit of deception. He understood the man's concern for his sister, yet knew the mortals would be hard-pressed to accept what might need to be done to held Mairen. "She is in the healing tent. I will take you there if you insist."  
  
Eamon nodded curtly. "Indeed I do insist."  
  
Haldir led them to the area where the large healing tent sprawled among the roots of the Mellyrn trees. Long fluttering banners bearing Galadriel's insignia draped from the tent poles while nearby a number of sentinels stood guard. Galadriel was not taking any chances with the Rohirrim. They would not be allowed to forget whose realm they had been allowed to enter.  
  
Haldir allowed Eamon to go first, watching as the sturdy Rohirran thrust aside the tent flap, followed by Willem with a hand on Eamon's arm. Haldir entered last and remained by the entrance while the two brothers bent over Mairen.  
  
Willem brushed his fingers along her brow. "She does not sleep normally."  
  
Surprised, Haldir studied Willem. Despite or perhaps because of his blindness, the mortal had become extremely perceptive. It would be interesting to see how far he could develop the trait. Shaking off the thought, Haldir answered. "Nay, she does not." He rested his hand near his sword, still unsure of how the men would react.  
  
Eamon turned his head, his face inscrutable and when he spoke his voice was soft. "Was it you who healed her shoulder?"  
  
Haldir nodded, watching them carefully. Would they rise against him? But they had journeyed here by choice. What exactly had they expected the elves to do? He waited patiently for Eamon to respond, for the man's brooding gaze had returned to his unconscious sister. What was he thinking?  
  
"She has had no ill-effects?" Again his voice was soft, yet Haldir could detect a hint of steel underneath, a control he found admirable.  
  
"None so far, nor do I expect any." Haldir met Eamon's gaze evenly as the warrior stood slowly to face him. The sentinel stood just outside, but Haldir remained motionless as Eamon sighed, running a tired hand through his hair.  
  
"Then I thank you." Eamon spoke stiffly, his face tight while his eyes searched Haldir's. "Perhaps my brother's fears were unjust. We do not understand your magic. If you can heal her mind as well as you have her body then I shall be forever in your debt."  
  
Haldir relaxed inwardly with an odd sense of relief. The man had extended a bridge where before there had been none, reaching out against all his ingrained principles. The Rohirrim were tight folk, staunch and loyal to their comrades. Their relationship with the elves had always been distant, an acknowledgement of respect, admiration, yet also distrust and wariness. They did not like elvenkind's use of magic; they feared what they did not know and could not understand. For Eamon to accept Mairen's magic- induced sleep and healing without much argument spoke of the man's deep fear for his sister. It was a large leap of faith that Haldir could not help but approve  
  
"It is not I who can heal her mind," he said, "but Mairen herself. We will do what we can to help."  
  
Eamon nodded, and reached for Willem's arm to pull him to his feet. "My brother needs aid as well. We shall leave Mairen to sleep."  
  
Mairen woke up with a mind clear from darkness, and no memory of her sleep. The last thing she remembered was the warmth of Haldir's arms and she raised her arm to test the shoulder where the arrow had struck.  
  
"It should not ache, but perhaps be a bit stiff," said a low drawling voice.  
  
Startled, she sat up, clutching the thin blanket to her chest and found Lord Celeborn seated in a chair at the foot of the bed, a small book resting on his lap.  
  
"My Lord?" she said in confusion.  
  
Celeborn leaned forward, his silver hair draping over his shoulders to cover his chest. "How does your shoulder feel?"  
  
Mairen gingerly prodded the skin. "It seems fine," she said with surprise. "Just a bit tender."  
  
The elven lord nodded once. "An after-effect we elves normally do not experience. Perhaps a resistance to the elvish healing?" He shrugged elegantly. "A irritation that should pass as soon as you begin to use it again."  
  
Mairen lay back down, suddenly very tired again. "How long have I been here?"  
  
"It has been one day since you were wounded."  
  
"And I slept all that time?" She glanced past her feet to where Celeborn was sitting.  
  
"With a little help from Haldir."  
  
She stared at the elf lord, not quite understanding his meaning, and then it hit her. "Oh. I see," she said.  
  
Haldir had made her sleep, using his magic as well as healing her. Or had someone else healed her? She wasn't sure what Haldir had done on the trail and hardly remembered much past the last few moments when Haldir had carried her in his arms.  
  
"You needed the rest," Celeborn said quietly. "What is the last you remember?"  
  
Uncomfortably aware of her nakedness beneath the blankets, Mairen pulled them to her chin. "Do you mean my visions?" she asked hopefully. Lord Celeborn smiled, chuckling, and Mairen knew he could see the hot blush that stained her cheeks.  
  
"Yes, that is what I meant, dear child. I do not need details of Haldir's rescue. Your condition when he arrived told us enough."  
  
Mairen knew her blush was deepening and felt foolish for it. "I don't recall. I am afraid if I try to remember it will bring the darkness with it. I don't want to remember anymore."  
  
She glanced at the elven lord, watching him tap his lips, his arm folded across his chest. Would he understand why she struggled? She closed her eyes, her thoughts churning again. She had come to learn, had to find answers. She knew it was not going to be easy. She knew the elves were terribly kind to offer her this aid, and wondered why they did. What could she mean to them? Why was it was important for them to step in, for Haldir to travel to Rohan to see her? The rush of questions hounded her and she struggled to push them aside, too weary to consider them all again, too exhausted to search for the strength.  
  
"Why, Mairen? What is this darkness of which you speak? Does it frighten you?" Celeborn leaned forward resting his hands on the book on his lap. His voice was soft, his tone questioning, yet demanding her to look deeper into her thoughts.  
  
Mairen twisted her hands into the blankets, feeling a familiar twinge of nervousness in her fingers. "Nay, I do not fear it. I just . . . don't like her memories." She had to look away as the elf raised a brow.  
  
"But they are your memories," he pointed out.  
  
Mairen sat back up. "How can that be, my lord? I am not an elf. I don't understand this at all. All I know is that I am very tired."  
  
Setting his book aside, Lord Celeborn rose to sit beside her. "I understand your confusion. True, you are not an elf, but you have small things about you that gave us pause. Traits we noticed, but could not place. This is a very momentous thing to happen to you, but you must continue to be strong. And be open, Mairen. You have taken but the first step in your healing."  
  
Mairen's brow furrowed in thought. "That's why you looked at me so oddly," she said, remembering both Celeborn's and Galadriel glances when she first arrived. What exactly had they seen?  
  
"You noticed? That was perceptive. But then I am not surprised." He regarded her solemnly. "We will discuss this more later, but for now I want you to sleep. Sleep as long as you can. Haldir will soon return, after he meets with your brothers and their questions. I will allow them to see you later, but at present you must rest."  
  
Mairen shivered and looked up at the elven lord as he rose to his feet. "Can I have my tunic back?" She blushed when Celeborn gazed at her with amusement.  
  
"I think not, Mairen. I believe it still lies somewhere along the trail. Haldir did not bring it with him. I doubt very much if there is much left of it, but I will have someone bring you a shift. We do not wish to make you uncomfortable."  
  
Mairen sighed. It sounded like she had really made a grand entrance, carried in Haldir's arms. What must everyone be thinking? And what had they seen? She gripped the blanket tightly, knowing sleep was going to elude her, but not willing to argue with the elven lord. "Thank you," she said. "I will try to sleep." She lay back down but then sat up abruptly. "My stone!"  
  
Celeborn turned from the door. "Don't worry, Mairen. Haldir has it. Rest now." He lifted a brow until she was once again lying down, and then brushed back the flap of the door, allowing a brief glaring light to spill through. Then the flap fell into place and the soft darkness returned.  
  
Mairen stared into the shadowy cloth ceiling. So much happening, so much to consider. Had she been wise to come here? Or did it only open more questions, add more fuel to a fire she was already hard pressed to put out?  
  
She groaned quietly. The Valar had made her life a quagmire. She didn't know if she would ever work out what she must do. She didn't even know if she could even do whatever it was she had to do. All such thoughts rushed back, all the worries, including the one question that confused her the most. Why did the elves care?  
  
She pressed her fingers against her eyes; certain she would never be able to sleep. Questions filled her mind, but suddenly they were gone and instead she was sinking in a grey mist of weariness. Her exhausted mind was shutting down and in moments she slept.  
  
Haldir sat back in the chair with his eyes closed, yet he had been pulled from his reverie by the slight rustle from the nearby bed. He did not move or open his eyes, but remained very still as the sounds continued. They told him she was awake and had found the long robe he brought. It was the least he could do after destroying her tunic.  
  
He cracked open one eye. As expected, she faced away from him but the darkness of the tent did not hamper his vision. He watched her movements as she slid the gown over her head, noting the thinness of her bare back and hips and the bones too prominent for a warrior of her class . . . or any female. He let out a sigh, and saw her quickly shove down the gown, then whirl to look at him, a blush staining her cheeks.  
  
"Watching were you? How naughty, Haldir." To his amusement, she yanked a blanket from the bed and wrapped herself in it.  
  
"A scene too fair to resist," he said teasingly, "but I cannot see through your gown. You need not hide behind the blanket."  
  
"No? Well I don't know what your elvish eyes can see, so I shall take my precautions." She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at him the best she could with her non-elvish eyesight.  
  
"Are you hungry?" he inquired.  
  
Mairen stared at him for a moment, an odd expression he would ponder later crossing her face, and then she smiled and nodded. "Famished. For the fist time in ages I really do feel hungry."  
  
Haldir rose and went to stand before her. "A good sign. Your brother's wait anxiously for you to wake." He drew her to her feet and guided her from the tent, pausing while she rubbed her eyes to adjust to the dappled sunlight breaking from the canopy above. They then followed a meandering path among the roots, and finally toward a large area filled with tables and a few elves. In the midst of all of this were her brothers, who rose quickly to their feet on her arrival.  
  
"Mairen!" Eamon shouted. He strode to meet her, swinging her around in a circle as he hugged her tightly.  
  
"Eamon, you are squeezing me to death," she gasped, and he set her down, standing back as he studied her intensely.  
  
"How do you feel, Mairen?" Willem reached her last, his step uncertain in the unfamiliar glade.  
  
Haldir watched Mairen reach out to caress his cheek. "I am fine, Willem, or as well as I can be. My shoulder feels better."  
  
He noticed she did not mention the wound to her leg. The brothers still had no clue as to how near the darkness was to taking Mairen. Did they realize truly, how close she was to death? He watched her closely, noting the fragility of her body, yet he had to admire the strength of her mind. Whether she admitted it to herself, she was fighting for her life as much as she was avoiding the fight to save herself. How long before the two disparate poles of her thoughts would come together?  
  
Her self-inflicted wound was a testament to her will to survive. Had she not done what she had done, he was sure the memories would have overtaken her, leaving her vulnerable and most likely dead. He had been surprised at her capacity to do what had to be done. It was a Rohan trait. He settled back to gaze at the woman as she greeted the others of her kind. She was and always would be a product of her Rohirrim upbringing and yet there was that other part of her soul that lingered in her mind. He would be interested to see what more she would reveal and how much Seothlindë affected who she now was.  
  
Did she realize how much these men cared for her, not just her brothers, but also the other men of her homeland? They had lain down their lives to get Mairen to Lórien. Had they come by choice, or command? Looking at each one as they conversed, Haldir had to believe they had willingly chosen the duty. Mairen must have felt the same for she rose suddenly, and moved down along the row of men, speaking softly to each. When she sat at back down and glanced his way he noticed her cheeks were flushed with pleasure.  
  
"I think I have underestimated my friends," she said. "Perhaps in my illness I have been shortsighted, and selfish." Haldir noted her face grew pale, as if an odd thought passed through her mind, but she gave a slight shake to her head and then glanced at him from beneath her lashes. He caught his breath, but met the gaze that searched his. Was she ready? He could only hope they could help her in time.  
  
She pulled her gaze from his and rested her chin in her hands. "What have they been doing while I lay sleeping, they do not seem to mind being among the elves?"  
  
Eamon's smile was not forced, yet he met Haldir's gaze with a bit of reservation before he turned to Mairen. "We do not mind, for already we have seen what they can do for you. Besides, the elves are far fairer than the men I ride with," he laughed softly with a wink toward his companions. "My eyes have been reminded there is much beauty in this world that we have not seen." He turned to his companions and several men laughed, agreeing.  
  
Willem snorted quietly, and touched his brother's arm, causing Haldir to wonder if it was a subtle reminder to watch what they said, but Willem's next words made him take note.  
  
"There is certainly one sight my brother finds fair indeed," Willem teased, and then he turned his head toward Haldir with a slight smile. "But I think Haldir has been keeping close watch on that warrior." Mairen looked confused, and Willem, seeming to sense no one understood his quip, shrugged and laughed, then prodded Eamon slightly. "Eamon noticed one tall warrior elf, er... warden- ess," he whispered loudly to Mairen.  
  
Eamon blanched slightly and looked at Haldir. "Willem means Loriel," he explained, to the murmurs of his men. "She evades me, so I know not if my interest is permitted or if she just does not wish to see me."  
  
Mairen sent Haldir a questioning look. "Surely it is her choice?"  
  
Haldir nodded. "Indeed the choice is hers." Both Mairen and Eamon visibly relaxed and Haldir noted Mairen's gaze rested on him for several moments before she turned back to her brothers.  
  
"And you?" she asked Willem, poking the man hard in the arm.  
  
Willem sighed. "I have done nothing but sit here and wait."  
  
Rúmil appeared alongside Mairen, briefly squeezing her shoulder as he sat beside Haldir. "He lies, Mairen. Orophin and I offered to relieve his boredom and took him to the training grounds. I think the loss of his eyesight is only a slight disadvantage. I think he sees better than I do." Rúmil laughed as Willem grinned bemusedly.  
  
Mairen turned to Haldir. "Loriel said you could teach Willem ways to fight without seeing."  
  
"True," he replied, observing the hopefulness in her eyes, "but he learns much of it on his own. A step in growing, Mairen, and learning who you are inside, and using it."  
  
Mairen sent him an anxious look and then sat back as several large plates of food and goblets of dark red wine were brought forth. The humans ate in silence; the elves only drank the wine.  
  
Haldir watched Mairen pick at the food. Suddenly, the half-eaten slice of bread she held in her hand fell from her fingers to her plate. "Mairen, what is wrong?" he asked, noting her sudden pallor. Rúmil also turned to her in concern.  
  
Mairen smiled brightly. "Nothing . . . I am fine . . ." and then promptly fell backwards into Rúmil's arms.  
  
I sat quietly, curled into the stone sill of the window that stood taller than I, staring out through the glass panes to the city wall and beyond. I clasped my knees tightly, uncaring that the silk gown was wrinkling, knowing I probably looked like a child hiding from her punishment.  
  
Was I? If I considered my life truthfully, I could see I had made mistakes, some of them very large. But one thing still stood out in my mind, a solid anchor that I reached for with desperate hands, despite the elf's denial.  
  
I was meant for the March Warden.  
  
I brushed my hand over my eyes. Or had it all been only a child's dream? A crush I had never let go? I pressed my fingers to my eyes, warding away the moisture that threatened to well over through my closed lids. I couldn't believe that. The feeling had been too strong. I sighed and stared out the window again. How long had it been since I'd first seen the Lórien elf, nay even heard his name? The memory was as vivid as the day I'd experienced it.  
  
I had been very young, only in my twenties when my father had come home with news of visitors arriving in the city. Cirdan, our lord, had been overjoyed, for it had been many years since he had last seen the Lady of Light. But it was not the Lothlórien ruler my father had spoken about. No, the young warden he had met had impressed him. A tall fellow, broad of shoulder and keen of eye, he'd be March Warden if anything my father had declared. It had been a rare compliment from an elf who gave none.  
  
I sighed again, thinking of my father. Strict and circumspect, he was a good elf and a loving father if not overly affectionate. I was sure it was the similarity of the warden's personality with his own that had earned his accolades and approval. However I knew the two were really quite different.  
  
But my thoughts returned to that day and to my father's conversation. I'd been instantly drawn into his words about Haldir.  
  
March Warden? I had asked. What was a March warden?  
  
My father had smiled indulgently. Captain of the guard, of course, he had said. The young elf would be Galadriel's foremost guardian if he missed his guess.  
  
Is he handsome? I asked again.  
  
My father had turned to me with a frown. Handsome? What does that matter? He is strong-willed and dedicated. He shrugged off my curiosity and had stood up to return to his duties, but I had one last question.  
  
What is his name, Father?  
  
His name? Haldir, my father answered. Haldir of Lórien.  
  
I had shivered, stuffing my hands under my arms in a habit those who knew me recognized, hiding a nervousness that made them tremble. Even then I was stubborn, unwilling to reveal a weakness. I repeated the name. Haldir.  
  
And knew without a doubt that I was meant for him.  
  
I lay my head on my knees, ignoring the cold dampness that seeped in from the window. Was I truly? And if so, now what? He had been so dismayed by my actions on the wharf. As for me, I was so confused. I couldn't understand his actions. Did he not feel the same? The elves were superior everyone could see that. Couldn't they?  
  
I sat back, leaning my head against the cool stones. Couldn't they? Yes, we lived far, far longer than the mortals, but did that make us any better? Certainly we had much more experience in life, much longer to learn lessons. But was I learning them?  
  
I considered my feelings. I lived in a harbor, and everyday had been subjected to contact with the mortal races. Even as a child I had played with human children nearby. When had I begun to hate them? I knew the answer but had tried to forget that memory. Be they elf, human or dwarf, children were cruel. They could be little mean spirited orcs. And I had been as bad as any of them.  
  
The boy had been tall, dark haired, wiry and a skilled street fighter. He'd taken to watching me, following me whenever we crossed paths. I had felt frightened at first, irritated and then finally annoyed by his constant surveillance. We had clashed finally, one bright morning in a back alley when I was on my way to lessons.  
  
"Why won't you talk to me?" he'd asked harshly, cornering me against the wall.  
  
"Why would I want to talk to someone like you?" I'd responded sourly, holding my precious books against my chest for fear he'd grab them to destroy them.  
  
"Are you afraid, elf?" He leaned into my face, his green eyes and smile cruel.  
  
'No, I am not afraid of you." I'd insisted, but I had lied. I was older, far older, but he was bigger and taller. He could have hurt me if he'd wanted to.  
  
'You think you are better than me, don't you?'  
  
I had responded without thinking, only wanting to go home. "Of course I am better than you. I am an elf, and elves are superior to any mortal. You will die and turn into dust before I even reach my prime. You are nothing, you silly boy."  
  
The boy had stared at me in amazement and then laughed harshly, clearly hurt and struggling to hide it. He must have heard enough and pushed away from me, stepping back with a sneer. I grew silent, realizing I'd gotten carried away in my attempt to push him away. Instead I angered him and created a monster within myself. The boy had left me then, but as the days passed, he taunted me along with the other human children. I, being the foolish child I was, refused to back down, to apologize for words spoken in fear. Eventually even the elvish children left me alone, for I had become withdrawn and closed, struggling to maintain what I thought was a stoic façade and what I now knew they had seen as arrogant and haughty.  
  
I had become too proud and stubborn. Remembering all this, bitter tears now spilled down my cheeks, but I ignored them. I had forgotten the pain. No, I corrected myself; I had ignored it and twisted it into something else. Hatred. It was no one's fault but my own.  
  
I was such a fool.  
  
Mairen sat on the edge of the rampart wall, staring out into the forest, conscious of the tall sentinel only a few feet away. He glanced her way when she climbed the wall, and then his face once again became impassive, a warrior on duty. It brought a rush of familiarity, not only from her days in Rohan, but also memories of a harbor town and duties there. The thoughts were jumbled, flashes of both flaring quickly inside her mind. She leaned over the wooden palisade, admiring the elven handiwork of coaxing the roots of the large trees into masses of knots and twisted branches, forming the outer gate.  
  
"What do you find so intriguing, Mairen?"  
  
She recognized the drawling voice immediately and flew to her feet, brushing off her leggings. The sentinel stood stiffly, if anything more at attention than he'd been a moment ago and she bowed to Celeborn as he stood beside the guard.  
  
"Greetings, Lord Celeborn. I just find it fascinating that the wall is still a living part of the trees. However did you manage to build it?"  
  
Lord Celeborn's lips curved slightly. "Ah, a question more for the lady, for she rules all that grows here. I am sure you would find it an interesting conversation. But come, we have other things to discuss, my dear.'  
  
Mairen took his proffered arm and they moved down the steps from the rampart. "I find your city beautiful, and mysterious."  
  
Celeborn glanced down at her. "A lifetime of work, that yet continues. We cannot help but create beauty as we see it. But you must be careful not to wander far, your health is not yet fully restored, and you may find yourself too ill to return to your talan."  
  
Mairen shrugged. "I am fine, my lord. I feel better than I have for weeks."  
  
The elven lord frowned, as they entered a small alcove within the bushes. "That may be true, young child. But you push yourself too far. Must I place a guard with you?" Haldir has his own responsibilities, and you may not like my choice of sentinel."  
  
Mairen blushed, taken aback that she was more a problem than she liked. "I am aware Haldir has responsibilities. I do not mean to take him from them." She folded her hands together to still their sudden trembling. "Besides, my lord, I know well the guards that follow me, it seems you have already placed shadows at my back."  
  
"Indeed we have," Galadriel agreed as she rose from a stone bench in the shadows. "But Haldir's responsibilities also include you, Mairen." She reached them and took the hand Celeborn held out to her. "Do not let Celeborn fool you, Haldir will be near for he is a part of your healing. And my husband's concern for you is not unfounded. You have slept finally, but your body is still weak. I would prefer you do not stray far from your room, nor go high into the trees. My sentinels will continue to be near when Haldir is not for your protection."  
  
Mairen felt her blush deepen and move to sit nervously in the chair Galadriel offered. What did they think of her? Did they truly feel concern for her health, or were the guards more than that, indeed guards? They seemed to treat her well, their concern evident on their faces. Did they sense her feelings about Haldir, about everything? She watched the elven lord pour a glass of wine, which he handed to her.  
  
He sat down across from her and Galadriel moved behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders and the two gazed at her with eyes that were fathomless, kind, yet in those gazes she saw nothing. What they thought was completely hidden from her.  
  
"This is our first opportunity to speak. We have some important things to discuss, Mairen," Celeborn said quietly.  
  
Mairen nodded, hoping the twitching of her fingers was not visible.  
  
Celeborn reached over and relieved her of the goblet. "Do you understand what is happening?"  
  
Mairen felt a chill run down her back, but nodded. "Haldir says I am reborn."  
  
"So we believe." Celeborn leaned back. "Let me provide more detail. As immortals, when elves die, in battle or otherwise, we are sent then to a place called the Halls of Waiting. Not bodily, of course but in spirit we are sent, and therein we wait until some point in a time when we are reborn and assume another role in life."  
  
Mairen folded her arms over her chest, tucking her hands underneath. Celeborn's eyes narrowed slightly and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"I understand that, I think. And if you do not die, you sail eventually to the West."  
  
"Aye, to live in peace forevermore," Galadriel said softly.  
  
"Why do you wait?" Mairen asked. "Why not all go now?"  
  
Celeborn pondered this for a moment, reaching up to squeeze Galadriel's hand on his shoulder. "An interesting question. We have loved this land for ages, Mairen. Just as it was not easy for your brothers to leave you here with us, it is not an easy thing for most of us to give up that which we have built up for so many years. This land is in our blood as much as Valinor, and it is a struggle to know which to follow."  
  
"We all hear the call," Galadriel added, "to go to the Havens to set sail, but many of us put aside that call, for events happen here that require us to remain. Yet soon all the elves will leave the world of Arda, never more to walk her green bowers and sunlit plains."  
  
Mairen shivered, unwilling to think of that day. "So what does this have to do with me?"  
  
"You have the fëa of one of us," Galadriel replied. "Why an elf has been reborn as a mortal is for you to decipher. Only you can unlock the secret."  
  
"Only you," Celeborn repeated, "have the power to merge the two into one entity so that you become her and she you. Only then will you remember why you were reborn. Once you remember then those memories will fade, not to be forgotten, but trouble you they will not."  
  
Mairen stared at him in dismay. "But I cannot be this elf! She is nothing like me!"  
  
"Who is she, Mairen? Do you know her name?"  
  
Mairen sighed. "Her name was Seothlindë."  
  
Galadriel lifted her chin, her sapphire gaze resting calmly on Mairen. "Ah, an interesting dilemma now presents itself." She seemed to study Mairen intensely, and Mairen felt the blood rise swiftly to her cheeks.  
  
"Do you know anything else about her?" Celeborn asked. "Anything that might be important?"  
  
"Aye," Mairen gazed at the elvish couple. "She was in love with Haldir."  
  
Haldir nodded to the elf before him, and then turned away from the gate, heading back into the city. The Orcs still harried the borders and a new patrol had just been sent out to relieve Orophin at the border. He wanted his brother here instead; he had a sense that he might need his aid.  
  
He made his way along the meandering path, nodding to greetings given by those he knew well. He paused as an elf left the group he was in and walked over to clasp Haldir's arm.  
  
"They say the Rohirran has the fëa of an elf? Is this true, Haldir?"  
  
"We do not know for certain, Elweth. Hopefully we will know more soon."  
  
Elweth's grip tightened on his arm. "I have heard it rumored that she was one of Cirdan's people?"  
  
"All will be revealed when necessary. You would do well not to pass rumors until we are certain."  
  
Elweth stepped back, his chin rising. "I ask only out of concern, Haldir. For if it is the one I have heard, I wonder why the Valar would send her back."  
  
Haldir met Elweth's gaze. Elweth was a sword smith of the Galadhrim, a well-respected elf. "We will only know the truth when she remembers. The Valar's whims cannot always be explained."  
  
The elf bowed slightly. "Indeed. Forgive me, March Warden for delaying you."  
  
Haldir nodded and resumed his walk among the Mellyrn roots. The day had dawned clear and bright, a late summer day that warmed the lower glades of the forest with a misty light. The shafts were glimmering beams of pollen-laden radiance, illuminating the darker bowers of the wood.  
  
Haldir made his way past small alcoves and several gardens full of heady fragrance before he stopped at a smaller one, moving among the tiny patches of flowers toward the elleth who knelt among them.  
  
She looked up, smiling broadly. "I wondered if you would come by, Haldir. I too have heard the rumors."  
  
Haldir crouched beside her. "Indeed, Eluviel, everyone seems to have an opinion. What is yours?"  
  
"Eluviel laughed softly. "I think the Valar are playing games. I have no wish to decipher their reasoning. No, pray they do not think me ignorant, but I would wait until I knew for sure their way of thinking. And only she can tell you that."  
  
Haldir's lips curved in a wry smile. "Always the devious one, winding your way around an answer." He rose gracefully, gripping her fingers to pull her to her feet.  
  
"That is because I have no answer. Has she met with Celeborn and the Lady yet?"  
  
Haldir nodded. "Aye, but only briefly."  
  
"Time will tell. You must be patient."  
  
Haldir's brows lifted. "As if I am not?" He bowed slightly and turned to leave, but she gripped his arm gently.  
  
"Give her these, Haldir, she might like them." With a soft smile, Eluviel held out a few of the long pale violet flowers whose heady perfume filled the garden.  
  
He took the flowers with an odd smile. "If I did not know better I would think you were match-making," he murmured.  
  
Eluviel smiled. "Nay, Haldir. I think someone else has already done that."  
  
Mairen lay back on the long bench, staring up at the leafy canopy above her, her eyes moving higher and higher until she could perceive no longer the individual leaves, but only the shadows of flets, bridges and occasional patches of brighter light. The forest here in the center of the city was thick with the largest of the Mellyrn, anchoring the elvish city. She sighed, knowing she was going to be late with her next meeting with Celeborn, an unforgivable breach. She forced herself to her feet, ignoring the dizziness that came with it.  
  
She had to take a moment to remember his directions, and then proceeded down the trail to another path, taking that and following it for several minutes. She was beginning to worry she had confused his directions when the elvish lord rose from within the shadows.  
  
"Greetings this day, Mairen."  
  
Mairen bowed. "Greetings to you, Lord Celeborn. I trust you are well today."  
  
Celeborn took her hand. "It is not my health we are concerned about." He led her into a small garden, surprisingly bright among the large trees. "I hope my directions were not confusing."  
  
Mairen smiled. "Nay, my lord. I am here."  
  
Celeborn's eyes twinkled. "Aye you are, but we are missing someone else."  
  
Mairen's head swiveled as Haldir spoke from behind them. "Forgive me, my lord, for it is I who am late."  
  
Celeborn only smiled, lifting an eyebrow at the flowers in Haldir's hand. "For me, Haldir? My favorite kind."  
  
Haldir smiled, and handed them to Mairen. "Had I known they were your favorite, I would have brought you some as well."  
  
Celeborn chuckled, then noticed Mairen's expression. "Do you not like them, Mairen?"  
  
She glanced at Haldir awkwardly. "They are beautiful. I just have never had anyone give me flowers before. Thank you."  
  
"A token of my friendship," Haldir replied and guided her to a low bench set among a large bank of bushes.  
  
Mairen lifted the flowers to her nose, hoping she hid her disappointment. She didn't want to dwell on why she felt it. She set them gently on the bench beside her and looked up at Celeborn who remained standing while Haldir sat beside her.  
  
Haldir reached into the pouch at his waist and held out the worry stone she had carried. "I believe this is yours."  
  
Mairen took the stone, feeling it warm in her hand the instant she touched it. "Aye, but it was my brother's first." She opened her fingers to gaze at the small rock. "He never told me of its powers, only that is seemed to ease his worries."  
  
"That is because he did not know of them," Celeborn told her.  
  
Mairen stared at him in confusion.  
  
Haldir shifted slightly. "The stones powers to amplify will only work on those who have some inherent magical abilities. Such as elves."  
  
Mairen rubbed her thumb over the stone thinking of her efforts to contact him. "So you heard me?"  
  
Haldir's gaze touched hers. "Aye, but you could have given me a bit more warning."  
  
Mairen glanced back down at the stone, remembering the brief glimpse of dappled leaves, the view of the forest that hadn't been hers. And the last memory of Seothlindë's.  
  
"What do you remember?" he asked evenly.  
  
"I remember Seothlindë. She was also remembering."  
  
Haldir reached out to wrap her fingers firmly over the stone. "What was she remembering, Mairen?"  
  
She stared down at his fingers, still touching hers. The elf's last memory had been painful and emotional. "She was remembering her childhood. And you, Haldir." She glanced at Celeborn. "Well, not really Haldir, but how she felt about him."  
  
Celeborn nodded. "Why do you think she remembers?"  
  
Mairen shrugged. She didn't want to think about that because for some reason it pained her as much as it must have pained the elf. "I have no idea. None of it makes any sense to me."  
  
"The memories have meaning," Celeborn said. "But only you can interpret them. You must reflect upon what you have seen and what she is trying to tell you."  
  
Mairen scowled, thinking of what the elf had been like. "I don't like doing that. I don't like her."  
  
"Why don't you like her, Mairen?" Haldir prodded.  
  
She stared at him incredulously. "Do you have to ask? You knew her. You know what she was like." She pulled her hands away from Haldir's and stood up. "Why the Valar would want to send her back is beyond me." She spun around to leave, but Haldir rose and caught her arm.  
  
"Are you running away now? You came here for help but you refuse to listen to our guidance. Perhaps you are more like Seothlindë than you think?"  
  
Mairen jerked her arm free. "How dare you say that? I am nothing like her! Nothing!" She glared at him, and then spun around angrily only to find Celeborn blocking her path.  
  
The elven lord settled his hands on her shoulders. "We are not trying to make you angry, Mairen. You must consider why she raises these emotions inside of you. That is the key."  
  
Mairen stared into Celeborn's eyes, biting her lip as the sapphire depths searched hers. Blue as the sea they sparkled . . .  
  
The sea was sparkling blue, the sunlight glancing off the shallow waves to blind my eyes as I gazed out over the bay. My bay, mine alone, I had found it only yesterday, following a deer along the shore. I sat on the warm sand, sifting the gritty soil in my fingers. The wind teased my hair, fluttering the blonde strands around my face, tickling my cheeks and I absently brushed the strands back. I stared at the sea, wishing . . . but for what?  
  
I laughed to myself, wishing for a handsome sea god to rise and sweep me into his arms to carry me off. I giggled, enchanted by the idea but then frowned. But he wouldn't come from the sea. No, my love would come from a far-off wood, a forest I had never seen, of golden trees and dark grottos and houses built high into the trees. I squinted out over the waves, imagining instead the wood of my dreams. I would live there, wouldn't I? Some day? A nagging sense of foreboding swept over me, darkening the daydream to shadows, but I pushed it away, refusing to allow the feelings to obscure my fantasies.  
  
I stood staring out at the sea, sparkling blue as I'd ever seen it, and imagined not being here to view the broad expanse. My sea would some day be a sea of trees and golden leaves. Or so I'd always thought. I adjusted the bow on my shoulder, pushing away the memories of the day I'd found the bay, and focused instead on that sense of foreboding. It had come back full force of late. I frowned; wishing I could roll back time to the day Haldir had left me.  
  
I'd been so ignorant, naïve to think I knew everything. How the Valar must have laughed as they watched, knowing I was so wrong. I shook my head. I knew what he'd meant about my need to learn. I had always assumed when we met it would all fall into place. Even when he had risen from the sea, so like my fantasy I'd felt sure it was the right path.  
  
I'd been terribly wrong. It was not his fault. The March Warden was everything I'd dreamt he'd be. Tall and handsome enough to send waves of giddiness through me, making my fingers itch and tremble to touch him. No one else had ever made me feel like that. How could one elf overcome my sensibilities and make my knees turn to water at glance? Perhaps it was those eyes, so different from anyone else's. The grey depths could cut a man in two, or an elf. He was so commanding, yet distant, and it was all I could do not to run to his side, wishing only to drown in that gaze.  
  
He was so damn honorable. Like my father had predicted, he had become March Warden. He was loyal and steadfast and highly respected, well known for his fighting skills as well as his work as an emissary to the Lady of Light.  
  
He could speak more languages than I could. He spoke Westron with the ease of hobbits or humans. That should have told me so much. But I had been blind. I had seen his strength and reveled in it, but had overlooked his empathy and his compassion. Such traits aided him so well as he dealt with others of the world. Traits he had shown me I lacked.  
  
I sighed. I had to see him again so that he could know I could change. He could teach me . . .  
  
But no, I had to teach myself. Only then would his gaze rest on me once more.  
  
Only then. 


	11. Renewed

Chapter 11: Renewed

Mairen sat in the glade, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight that shot through the thick leaves overhead. She stared at her worry stone, the smooth rock warm in her hand. Haldir sat quietly across from her, his grey eyes as usual glittering but revealing nothing of his thoughts. Lord Celeborn stood several steps behind Haldir, his blue eyes studying her but she could not yet meet the intense gaze of the elven lord.

It was all so confusing, yet she understood what they were saying. But the effort to gain control of what was happening seemed insurmountable. She sighed, dropping the stone into her lap so she could rub her eyes. "The elf's past lies open to me, yet why? What purpose do her memories serve me? If she is a part of me, why suddenly manifest itself in such a way? Why could I not have remained ignorant of it and lived on as I was?"

The elven lord's expression was reflective and he answered her questions carefully. "We do not know why the Valar do what they do, Mairen. These things happen rarely to elves, never to my knowledge to a mortal. But with what experience we do have, the revelation of the soul comes at a time when the spirit feels your body has the strength and maturity to deal with the upheaval. The soul is yours, the memories are yours, but at this moment it seems like another person."

"One I have not found very pleasing."

"As you have said, Mairen," Haldir agreed. "But your knowledge of her is very limited, only to what you have yet remembered."

Mairen looked at him in surprise. "That is true, so tell me what she was like?"

Haldir shrugged. "I did not know her well, my time with her was limited."

Mairen smiled, remembering the night he rose up out of the ocean. "But what was your impression, Haldir?"

Haldir leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. But it was Lord Celeborn who answered. "She was a young, hardly past her elven majority. On the rare days when we arrived in the Mithlond, Seldwain, her father was often at the docks as the ships readied sail. Seothlindë often accompanied him as she was a harbor warden."

Mairen nodded, she had gathered that Seothlindë had been some kind of guardian. She waited for the Lord to continue.

"She was strong-minded, a very capable warrior. Her interest in Haldir was made known to me by her father, a subtle exploration of his options regarding her." The elven lord smiled, glancing at Haldir. "I was not surprised, for indeed Galadriel and I both had remarked that the warden seemed to have eyes only for Haldir. It was quite obvious."

Haldir remained aloof, his expression carefully controlled. Had he found the elf attractive? She rubbed the stone, picking it back up from her lap. "Did you consider her affections as inconsequential, Haldir?"

The March Warden considered her for a moment. "Insignificant? Indeed no, Mairen. I was interested, and flattered she was so adamant about her feelings, but she was very young. I thought her affections would be short-lived, gone once I had departed from the Havens."

"But they were not so brief as you expected," Mairen amended. "If I know anything, her sentiments regarding you affected her whole life. Her thoughts revolved around you, Haldir. Did she speak of this to you?"

Haldir took her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers, the stone clasped between them. "She did. You have only to look for the thought in your mind."

She was startled by that idea. She could pull back the memories on her own? It made sense, as the recollections were supposedly hers. She had only to focus. She closed her eyes and the images of that moment flooded into her mind. She pushed the scene away, opening her eyes. "So, I have knowledge of the elf, I have her memories. What more will happen?"

Celeborn rested a hand on Haldir's shoulder. "If your mind can accept that she is you, and you are she, then the body will give in, accepting the knowledge, and it will release the final essence that lies dormant in your mind."

"The essence, what is that?" Mairen asked irritably. "Will it be the rest of her memories, her knowledge? Will I suddenly know how to sail and navigate by the stars?" Mairen joked, yet found the two elves were not laughing.

"That is very true, Mairen. You have abilities that you are not yet aware of."

She squeezed the stone in her hand. It was all very unsettling. "All right, I believe you, so now what? I have no more reservations. The dreams and visions have been all too real, I cannot help but think of them as they happened."

Haldir unfolded her fingers, taking the stone from her. "Galadriel will continue to aid you. She will help you become one."

Mairen slouched slightly into her chair. The one person in Lórien who truly made her nervous was Galadriel.

Mairen sat up in her bed suddenly, shrouded by darkness, shivering despite the warm night. Another vision? She rubbed her forehead in a fleeting attempt to draw back the fading thoughts. Nothing. What had wakened her?

She slid off the bed, pushing aside the thin veil that fluttered beside the open window. Outside, the evening was awash with the scent of flowers, their fragrance drifting up from the many gardens below her. The cadence of the crickets was stilled, the absence striking in the sudden silence.

She released the curtain and pulled a thin robe over her nightgown, drawn by something outside. She could not say what drew her, but moved carefully down through city. She reached the main path that meandered through the maze of roots to the gates, and turned toward the tall fenced perimeter. The shadows were dark at the base of the trees; pools of shallow light glowed softly from lanterns placed along the path. Why did the elves use lanterns when they could see in the dark, she wondered absently. She paused when she heard voices, low-pitched but filled with agitation; something was happening.

She slid behind the trunk of a tree and peered around at the elves that gathered in front of the gate. The portal lay ajar as more elves made their way inside the city while the sentinels that stood above on guard watched with grim expressions. The wardens must have just returned from patrol since she noted several seemed wounded. Haldir must have been notified but she was surprised he was not yet there.

"Mairen, you should be in bed."

She flinched awkwardly and whirled around; embarrassed she had not heard him approach. "Something woke me, I had to come," she sputtered. His glance slid past her to the elves and he caught her arm, drawing her with him as he strode quickly into the center of the patrol.

"Haldir!" A tall elf turned as Haldir approached, his face pale, his tunic and leggings bloody. He touched his heart quickly, and then sent Mairen a curious gaze. She flushed when she realized many had stared as she approached with Haldir.

"What news, Élan?" Haldir demanded softly, drawing Mairen beside him.

The elf ran a hand over his eyes, in a manner of one who had pushed himself too far. "Orcs harried the western front. We have secured the area but lost two. I have been sent ahead to bring back reinforcements. The orcs have massed together in a group large enough to wreak considerable havoc. Runners from the south bring word of fires in Rohan." The elf looked at Mairen with a frown. "I fear they have brought destruction upon many outlying villages once again."

Mairen's hand went to her hip, but found it empty. The world seemed to spin around her and she struggled to push away the anguish that engulfed her. Rohan was in danger! Her people were dying and she was cavorting with the elves? She was needed at home! The elf staggered suddenly and Haldir wrapped an arm around the warden's shoulders.

"You need to rest, you've been wounded, Élan." Haldir turned to her. "Mairen, will you help Élan to the healing tents?"

She nodded, sliding beneath the elf's arm. She wrapped her arm around his waist and they moved slowly down the path. She could hear Haldir behind her, his orders decisive as the replacements arrived to head out. She would be gone soon as well. She would not sit by while her people died.

Élan slid down into the chair as several elves hurried to him with concern. Mairen stepped back and began to leave when the elf reached out, catching her sleeve.

"You are planning on leaving?" His eyes were narrowed, suspicious.

She stared at him defiantly. "I am not a prisoner. I will go to the aid of my people."

"It is too late for many. You are not yet healed, even I can see that." Élan grimaced as one of the healers pressed on his back. "Haldir will not allow it. I warn you in advance."

She pulled her arm free from his hand. "He has no hold over me."

The elf's gaze swept over her leisurely. "No? Do you generally meet the March Warden in the middle of the night in your nightgown? Or perhaps the news woke you both? It is not a secret the captain has an eye for you. I would think he would not agree to your leaving just yet." He flashed the healer an annoyed glance as she pressed on his back again and caught the elf's hand, holding her off. He turned back to Mairen as she stiffened.

Mairen took a step back, hoping the warmth of her cheeks was not too visible. "I do not sleep with Haldir, not that it is any of your business. It was just a coincidence that he met me on the path." She drew herself up, pulling the robe together tightly. "I must go." She swept aside the flap covering the door to the tent and then looked back over her shoulder. Both the healer and the elf were watching her, a mixture of amusement and disbelief marking their features.

So, they thought she was bedding the March Warden? Mairen hurried along the path, her robe dragging behind her as she headed back to her room. Foolish elves. She lifted the long skirt of the gown, striding up the few steps of a staircase to gain the arched span that led to her talan. Haldir might have kissed her once, well several times she amended, but that was all. She was quite certain the March Warden had little intention of anything more. He had become quite distant since her arrival, helpful in dealing with her dreams and such, but that was the extent of her contact with him. She would have been disappointed if she truly thought he'd been interested. It was quite laughable really, besides she was quite sure it was Seothlindë's emotions she felt when it came to Haldir. Her heart was Rohirran. She reached for the door, wondering suddenly if that were true why her heart seemed such a lead weight in her chest. She dismissed the thought and opened the door.

She was so intent on her feelings and determination to dress and find her way back to the gate, that she was taken aback when she found Haldir sitting casually in a chair by her bed. "Haldir? What are you doing here?" she asked, startled, and closed the door. "Shouldn't you be out directing your forces back to the border?" She sent him a covert glance as she crossed to the window to peer out.

"I have sent out another patrol. I wait for Rúmil and another runner. Would you like to take over my duties, Mairen? You seem to know what needs to be done." Haldir folded his arms over his chest and stretched out his legs.

He looked far too comfortable she thought as she turned from the window. "Of course I don't. I just am surprised you aren't in the thick of it, making sure things are getting done." Her eyes strayed to the tall wardrobe along the wall. "What do you want?" She crossed the room to another chair and sat down stiffly.

"You can't go home, Mairen."

Mairen forced herself to meet Haldir's gaze. The silver depths were cool; he had the same expression he'd had when ordering his wardens. "What do you mean? I shall go back to Rohan at some point." She rubbed her fingers together nervously in the folds of her robe finding he was far too perceptive.

Haldir only lifted an eyebrow, his grey eyes glowing slightly. Mairen realized with a start they had not lighted a lamp. She glared at him, turning to the lantern on the table. "I am not a prisoner," she maintained as she fumbled with lighting the lamp. "I can leave when I choose."

"To a certain extent. But you are not well. You cannot go."

She settled the sheath over the lantern and turned to face him. His eyes glittered in the light, flickering shards of ice. Her heart lurched, her toes curling underneath her gown. "I am much better," Mairen insisted. "There is nothing more you can do for me. I must go to my people."

She ignored the tingling in her hands and moved toward the tall cabinet that held her clothes. She opened the door but found Haldir had risen and now pushed it closed, using his arm to block the opening. Mairen, her heart thumping madly in her chest, took a deep breath. He reminded her of the day she had slapped him, unyielding and impassive. He could have been a rock his expression was so inflexible.

"What do you think you can do, Mairen?" he argued. "You are weak. You have no weapons. Do you think to walk? I hold Epona."

"So you keep me captive?" Mairen demanded. "I came here by free will. I will leave when I wish to."

"You came here to find healing. You are not yet healed," Haldir countered firmly. "The Rohirrim will have evacuated the outlying villages. Your border guards will have destroyed the enemies they have found and will be hounding those that try to hide. Your chances at meeting up with a patrol are slim. And what then, Mairen? Will you endanger your friends as you attempt to wield a sword or your lance with a less than capable hand? The danger is not only to you but to Epona."

"They need me, Haldir," Mairen persisted, but she was fast losing her determination, and backed up several steps as Haldir released the cabinet door and leaned against it.

"They do not need you as you are, Mairen."

Haldir moved toward her, following as she crossed to the window again. The city was awake now, and she could see many elves moving around the paths above her. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, a gesture meant to comfort she was sure, but she felt only frustration. Would it ever be the same again? She folded her arms around her, willing him to leave but unable to voice the demand. He probably would have ignored it anyways she decided as his fingers tightened, and he forced her to turn to face him.

"You are angry. I did not mean that your people don't want you. You know this." Haldir gripped her chin, tilting his head to look closely at her. "This is a test of your determination, Mairen. Your people are in danger, but so are you. If I allow you to return, headstrong and obstinate, I put you and those around you in worse danger. You know this to be true," he insisted, his fingers pushing her chin up so he could see her eyes.

Mairen tried to control the tidal wave of despair. "Yes I know, but I don't have to like it."

Haldir released her with a small smile curving his lips. "No, I did not expect you to like it. We will offer what aid we can, but I think your cavalry can deal with this as well as we. You lose faith in your race."

Mairen shook her head, pulling her eyes from his. "Nay, I am quite confident of my brothers and friends. I only despair as I cannot be beside them, where I should be. I fear I may never belong at their side again."

"Your fear is uncalled for, Mairen. They will accept you as they always have." Haldir gripped her chin again, and she was surprised when he bent his head, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. "Be patient. I know this is difficult for you. I will find out as much as I can."

He was gone too quickly, the room felt empty. She pushed open the window further, and then sank to the floor below it. She had to get past the emotional upheavals. It was time to face the reality of what she was and go on. She glanced at the closed door. Much longer and she couldn't say where her heart would want to be.

Galadriel watched the elves pass through the gate from her vantage point high in the trees. She stood at the edge of the wide flet, the platform ringed by some of the largest of the Mellyrn. Haldir stood respectfully behind her, his stance relaxed to one who did not know him. She turned away from the forest.

"Your thoughts reverberate through my head like a waterfall rushing over the rocks Haldir, sweeping my own aside to tumble down the river alongside yours." She gazed at him, watching his expression intently. The March Warden's grey eyes rose slowly to meet hers, his emotions unreadable.

Haldir rested a hand on his sword, dressed for travel the warden only waited for her approval before leaving again with Rúmil. The younger guardian had returned, his report given and sent back out with additional guardians. Only a couple wardens remained behind, waiting to leave with Haldir to join up with Rúmil on the trail.

"Perhaps we have taken a wrong step, my lady," Haldir suggested carefully.

Galadriel studied him, noting the tiny clues that revealed the March Warden's carefully controlled feelings. He had reported Rúmil's information but she could see his mind had moved on to something more important to him. Something that he tried to hide, but she could see only too well. "Do you doubt my decision to have you bring Mairen to Lothlórien?"

Haldir dropped her gaze to turn and stare out into the shadowy canopy around them, folding his hands behind his back. Galadriel waited for him to explain his thoughts, sensing he was finding it difficult. It would be unsettling for Haldir for the loss of words rarely affected him. He turned back toward her, and ran a hand over his face in a gesture that revealed the depth of his concern.

"Why do you worry so?" she inquired quietly.

"I fear we have made things worse for her."

Galadriel smiled ruefully. "I must trust in my instincts, Haldir, and Celeborn's. Why do you suddenly doubt my judgment?"

Haldir shrugged elegantly, shifting his bow on his shoulder. Both were uncharacteristic of him "I do not mean to make such accusations, my lady. I am simply trying to put myself in her place. She has come to terms with the visions and memories, even considers the memories as hers at times. Yet with the news today she has been pulled apart again. I cannot allow her to leave, as she would like, but I see the pain I have caused her. She is torn, and I worry that she will lose what stability she has gained in her mind. But my worry is more a personal concern than a logical one."

Galadriel's vision grew hazy as she gazed into the distance. "We must be patient. I know your heart is troubled with the pain she has had to deal with. Mairen will soon reach the final test of her trials. My greatest concern is that it will be quite agonizing; Glorfindel was abed for several days with excruciating headaches. She has struggled much already, can you imagine what she will go through when she must merge together?"

Haldir sighed softly. "I fear that as much as anything."

"As you should. And your decision to refuse to let her go was based upon that concern. She is not well enough to ride to her people, and you know it and she knows this. Your reasoning may be driven from what lies in your heart but it matters not. Your feelings for Mairen are known to me, Haldir."

Haldir's grey eyes darkened, his expression growing bleak. "I can never hide such things from you. As usual you have laid my heart bare, but I do not know what will come of it, my lady."

"Indeed you cannot," she agreed, answering both statements. "Why do you hide it from her?"

Haldir's lips tightened and his expression grew determined. "She is confused as Seothlindë's emotions seem more real to her than her own. She has pushed what she once was into the recesses of her mind. She relates any feelings she has for me as part of the elf's memories. I do not want to complicate the situation any more than I have."

"She will soon be faced with much more than her affection for you. Do not be concerned Haldir. Have faith that the Mairen you love will return."

Haldir bowed slightly. "I will return from the border as soon as I can. You will send word if she needs me?"

Galadriel moved to his side to rest her hand on his arm. "I will send for you if there are any signs she begins the final transformation."

Haldir bowed his head and then strode quickly off the platform, heading down the flight of stairs to where the last of his wardens waited.

Celeborn watched the gate close softly, Galadriel beside him as Haldir disappeared into the wood. He turned to her with a frown creasing his brow. "The time grows short. Will he be able to return in time?"

Galadriel clasped the hand Celeborn held out, lifting her skirt as she walked beside him. "I can only hope he can. You were there with Glorfindel, how do you think she will pass the last trial?"

Celeborn pursed his lips, remembering the pain that had brought the great warrior to his bed. "She is but a slight child, a mortal. I have no sense of what strength lies inside of her, but somehow I feel she will bear it with great fortitude. I think she has a hidden courage that she does not realize she taps into. Haldir would be a powerful support for her with the worry stone she carries. They are tied in mind, and heart now."

Galadriel smiled wryly. "He would not like to know you see it so well. It is not often our March Warden wears his heart on his sleeve."

Celeborn squeezed her hand, pausing to place a finger under her chin. "There are times when we cannot but help reveal what lies deep inside our heart. My heart was laid bare at your feet the moment we met, do you not remember?"

Galadriel took his hand, pressing his fingers to her lips. "I remember it well, dear heart. Our love has withstood centuries. Haldir may not have such time."

Celeborn pulled her arm beneath his, pressing their hips together as they continued to walk. "I do not wish to give him false hope, but consider what is happening. Never before have the Valar done something like this. What the ramifications are to Mairen remain to be seen."

Galadriel nodded. "True. Seothlindë was so young to be taken, her life snuffed out before it truly began." She placed her hand on top of his arm, drawing closer to the tall elf. "More is at work here. Seothlindë somehow did not play into the Valar's plan. I believe they had much intended for the elleth. Perhaps Seothlindë's mistake was her lack of compassion for others of this world? She may have learned to change but was it soon enough? I wonder if the Valar had some hand in her death?"

Celeborn heaved a quiet sigh. "I think not or why bring her back? That is the most interesting question!"

Galadriel's gazed thoughtfully past him, her steps slow as she considered her words. "I don't know. Did the Valar intend the elf to be at Haldir's side as Seothlindë insisted she was meant to be? Why? The answer may lie in Haldir's plight during his ambush. Would Seothlindë have ridden to save him, not knowing what he was? Those concerns never entered Mairen's mind, only that she felt he was in dire danger and she must react. Would Seothlindë have followed that instinct so blindly?"

Celeborn nodded in agreement. "I do not think so quickly. And then it would have been too late."

"Indeed." Galadriel rubbed Celeborn's arm, her thoughts whirling. "She would not have willingly fought for the men and their alliance at Helm's Deep, had she been brought to Lórien. Mairen remembers how Seothlindë was and why. And, she said Seothlindë tried to change. But yet, perhaps the Valar doubted her. Had she changed enough? Or did they need someone totally opposite? Does this have some relation to the differences in the two personalities? I can only wonder, Celeborn. But I am certain she is tied to Haldir because of this. She must remember on her own and realize that it was Mairen, a Rohirran warrior that accepted the mantle once held by Seothlindë. She is bound to Haldir as strongly as Seothlindë once was."

Mairen sat in front of her mirror, her mind whirling as she forced herself to remember, pulling random images from within her mind. Days of her youth in Rohan flashed before her, sunlight reflecting off the sea, children playing… elvish children playing. The memories were becoming blurred, melding the two lives. Is this what Celeborn had meant in their last discussion. She would at some point forget the differences? She settled her chin onto her hands, staring at her reflection. Would the changes show?

She shook her head, annoyed at her own foolishness. She ran a hand over her hair brushing the long sandy locks over her shoulder. What had the elf looked like? Was she similar to Seothlindë at all? She pressed her fingers to her eyes, trying to remember but no image came to mind. Why couldn't she remember? Certain things seemed muddled, like they were hidden yet in a grey mist. Would that curtain ever be drawn back?

What did all of this matter, truly? If she lived another thirty years, she would still die. What good came of knowing she was once an elf? Would it really make any difference in her life? She sat back as she considered the ramifications, stunned for a moment.

"I wondered when the question would come to you," Galadriel said as she glided across the room toward Mairen. "You thoughts have lain open for me quite often of late."

Mairen rose quickly to her feet, but Galadriel waved her back to her seat. The lady sat gracefully on the edge of the bed, her blue eyes riveting Mairen as she settled back into the chair.

"I did not realize my mind was so exposed." Mairen turned the chair so she faced the Lady of Light. "My lady, can I be frank?"

Galadriel smiled in amusement. "I would have it no other way, Mairen. Ask what you will."

Mairen folded her hands into her lap. Her discussions with Galadriel always seemed stilted. The Lady intimidated her, Mairen never knew if Galadriel was reading her thoughts or not. It affected what she said, and made her worry about what passed through her mind. Some things were better not left open for the lady to see.

Galadriel's soft laugh brought Mairen out of her self-introspection and she blushed. "Mairen, stop worrying. I do not pry into your thoughts; I sense mainly your emotions. Please speak openly. I would answer the questions that have been bothering you."

Mairen took a deep breath, lifting her gaze to meet the Lady's evenly. "How do you know what I was wondering then? This last moment?"

Galadriel's head tilted to the side slightly and she lifted a finely arched brow. "Your expression, Mairen. It seemed like a revelation, and I suspect what you just wondered was whether you are immortal?"

Mairen bit her lip, and pushed away the uneasiness. She had questions, and the Lady hopefully some answers. "What_ are_ the ramifications to my life, my lady? If all of what you have told me is true, then inside I am truly an elf. I may have been born Rohirran, but my soul is elvish. What can that mean?"

Galadriel's gaze was quite piercing. "Indeed? We do not know for certain, Mairen. There are some very important things that you must consider, for they will affect the rest of your life."

Mairen nodded. "I must go back to Rohan. I know this. My life is there, my family; no matter that inside I am an elf. It is where I belong." Her heart seemed to constrict as she pressed on. "I understand that I will know certain things, remember how to speak to you in Sindarin, all of that. I only hope that it does not change how my people feel about me."

Galadriel rose from the bed, taking several steps across the room and then turned, the thin fabric of her dressing rustling with her movements. "They love you, and will accept you back. But consider Mairen, if you truly believe your soul is that of an elf, what this means. There may be choices to make."

Mairen moaned softly, rubbing her cheeks with hands that were cold and icy. "How will I know what affect it has on me? Galadriel, will I know it when my soul converges? And why? Will I know why I have been sent back?"

Galadriel came forward, drawing Mairen from her chair to the window. "Look, Mairen. This is my home, for thousands of years. Thousands. Do you understand? When you pass the final test, I believe you will know why the Valar sent you back. I also believe with that knowledge comes a new decision for you. You see if you hold the soul of an elf, then truly you are an elf. You may _be_ immortal, Mairen. If so, you will have privileges of our race. The Valar gave you life, and with that comes the abilities of our people, and the call home." She turned Mairen to face her. "You may feel you belong to Rohan, for that is where you grew up. But how long? You may live far past the lives of your brothers, your king. One other had this choice before her."

Mairen felt the blood drain from her face. She had truly not considered what might happen. "But you do not know this for sure, my lady. I could still only live a normal life of my race."

Galadriel shook her head. "Nay Mairen. This is why Celeborn and I brought you here. You are one of us; you must change your perception of what you have before you. Thousands of years will pass, Mairen, not thirty, or fifty, or even hundreds. Think of the generations that you will watch grow and die."

Mairen drew back, shaken. "I had not considered that."

Galadriel pressed her fingers to Mairen's chin, forcing their gazes to meet. "Our time is nearly gone. The war of the ring is over my power fades every day. I will soon leave these shores, leaving few of us behind. You will have to choose quickly whether you will stay or leave. Once the last ship sails the elves will be no more in Arda."

Mairen shivered. "Arwen made that choice, didn't she? How difficult it must have been."

"Arwen has followed her heart. Her love for Aragorn is deep, strong enough that she was willing to face the despair of seeing him die and living on this earth alone until she fades. I hope it will be worth the pain in the end."

Mairen leaned on the window frame, gripping the wood sill tightly in her hands. "We don't know yet if I face that decision."

Galadriel's answer was disquieting. "It won't be very long, Mairen."

The sunlight sparkled on the water bubbling over the rocks. The stream was cold as it rushed over Mairen's bare feet as she sat on the edge of the bank. Two weeks since Haldir had left, two long weeks of constant remembering. She was pushing too hard, she knew it, but she was determined to press on. Her head was aching today; last night she had slept only a few hours. She leaned forward, trailing her fingers in the water. She drew her feet out, drying them off with the edge of her tunic. She was going to have a hard time giving up the elvish attire. She grinned, perhaps she would start a new trend in Rohan, but she didn't think her brothers would accept the style. They could be so stubborn and resistant to change. She sat back, leaning on her hands to feel the sun on her face. The stream was a short distance from the city, meandering through the sunlit glade. She had found it a comforting spot to dwell on her memories. The sun warmed the chill that some of the thoughts brought to her mind. Seothlindë's life had not always been easy. But it was the life of a warrior; death and fighting was something Mairen knew well.

Something she would go back to soon. She missed her brothers. Would she miss Haldir when she left? She sighed. Perhaps she was putting too much into his kiss the other day. Just when she had decided he wasn't interested he did that. She told herself her feelings about him were only her memories, but she knew it wasn't true. She'd lain awake too many nights since he'd left thinking about him. It didn't change her decision to leave, though. She had to go back.

She sat up, crossing her legs. Time to get on with what she had come here for. She was going to push again. She shivered; knowing the memory she wanted was one she really didn't want to remember. But she had to. Somehow she knew it was the final key. She just had to have the courage to face it.

She closed her eyes, willing the memory to come…

_I_ _ran along the street, ignoring the surprised looks of the other elves, past storefronts and warehouses, finally reaching the outskirts of Mithlond to wait with impatience, my gaze for once trained on the dusty road instead of the sea._

It had been so long since he had come. I felt the rise of warmth on my cheeks as I remembered his disdain. He'd been right. I had been selfish and unkind. Arrogant. It had taken Cirdan's own words to finally make me see the truth. I'd been wrong, and I had made the effort to change. I had looked upon the races of the world, and tried to understand their value, their place. At least I had tried to, and I was certain Haldir would see it. He would know as soon as he saw me that I had grown wiser.

I moved past the outer walls, where the masons were repairing a broken section, using both elven and human workers to replace the large stone blocks of carved granite. It was a new design, ordered by the King, to replace an older marker above the gates. I looked up, smiling at the workers overhead as they heaved the large block onto the edge of the wall, readying the ropes that were to lift it into place. A call from the road made me turn, and my eyes grew wide in excitement as the first glint of the approaching party broke the horizon.

_ I was frozen with excitement, but then moved forward to peer down the road. I watched the elves approach, one in particular leading the way._

_ I closed my eyes, hearing the creak of ropes overhead, daydreaming of my upcoming meeting with Haldir. His eyes would widen in amazement, love . . . My eyes flew open as a brief premonition hit me. Above me, the sound of ropes snapping made me look up with a terrible sense of foreboding._

_ My scream must have brought them at a run for elves and men suddenly surrounded me, as well as the elves that were just arriving._

_ I felt my body shudder. Trapped beneath the large stone, I lay crushed beneath its weight, curiously free of pain while the elves rushed to remove it. I knew they were too late. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the horror and the looks of anguish that were all around me. Then a hand rested on my shoulder, and the low voice I'd dreamed of for so long caressed my battered nerves._

_ "Seothlindë!" Haldir whispered frantically, and I gazed into the grey depths of his eyes, seeing his sorrow as the others pulled away the stone._

_ "It is too late, Haldir," I told him. "I was waiting, I was ready to show you how much I had changed. So you would love me." I coughed weakly. A tall human stepped forward and bent down beside me._

_ "It's my fault," he said miserably. "I am so sorry. The ropes snapped. I could not pull it back!"_

_ Haldir turned to him, but I reached out with a weak hand to touch the human's knee. "It's not your fault . . . I was not paying attention." I sucked in a now painful breath and whimpered quietly. "I am dying, but I do not want to go." My sight was growing dim Haldir was fading from me. "I fight it . . . I do not want to leave you . . ." I blinked away the mist taking over my vision, and saw Haldir lean over me, his grey eyes stormy as the sea._

_ And then I could only smile forlornly and close my eyes._

Haldir pushed the thick branches aside, drawn to the stream by a sense that Mairen was there. He could see the bright glade ahead of him, glowing beyond the darker shadows of the forest. He ducked another low branch and stepped into the brilliant sunshine just as Mairen collapsed to her side near the stream. It took him only seconds to reach her, kneeling down to gather her into his arms.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and he found she was trembling violently. He didn't know what she was remembering and feared what it could mean. He brushed the wetness from her face, drawing his fingers gently over her pale skin. She had braided her hair back and he smiled at the thin braids behind her ears. Had she done it purposely? She wore the elvish tunic he'd given her as well. He liked her in it, liked the thin fabric as it molded to her body. She whimpered and Haldir felt a deep sense of horror wash over him. Where was her worry stone, did he dare join her thoughts, would she consider it as an intrusion?

He didn't have to make that choice as Mairen shuddered and then opened her eyes. She blinked in surprise and then sat up, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He held her securely as she wound her fingers tightly into his hair, waiting for her to speak.

"It was too real, to open my eyes and find you leaning over me just as you did before." She tightened her arms, nearly choking him.

"Mairen, you must explain. Let go so I can breathe and I can look at you."

She relaxed her arms but didn't let go of his hair, nor lift her face from where she had it buried in his neck. He slid his hand up her back as she continued to tremble.

"I missed you terribly, I don't know why you affect me so," she mumbled into his shoulder.

Haldir smiled and grasped her arms, drawing her away from him. She met his gaze, her hazel eyes still awash with moisture, glistening in the bright sunlight. "I missed you as well, Mairen. You have been all right? Why were you crying?"

She brushed away the tears on her cheeks and frowned. "I am fine. I made myself remember, Haldir. It's the key. I had to remember how I died." She blinked as the tears welled into her eyes again, and she wiped them away irritably. "You were there, leaning over me, so sad."

He remembered that day all too well. "I was horrified by what happened, Mairen."

She nodded, shivering again. "I was waiting for you. You know this."

Haldir wrapped his fingers around her arms. "She was at the edge of the city. I did not know she waited for me."

Mairen pressed her hands against his chest. "You knew, whether you will admit it or not. I remember, Haldir. I remember your face."

He saw the bleakness in her eyes, but could not change what was. "I did not come for her . . . for you. She would have been disappointed yet again."

Mairen closed her eyes; he could see the pain reflected in her expression.

"But I changed, Haldir. I saw my mistake, and made the effort to grow and improve. Would it not have made any difference?"

She tried to move back, but Haldir tightened the hold on her arms, drawing her closer instead. "I don't know, Mairen. Does it matter? Your life as it was is over. You have a chance at a different life, how will you live it now? This is what you must decide. You must use what the Valar have given you to the best advantage."

He would regret that advice; he knew it as soon as he saw the change in her eyes.

"I never found any human men that interested me," Mairen said quietly. "I enjoyed their company, fought beside many that I loved dearly, as I loved my brothers. Yet I felt something was waiting for me. I had something more to do; yet what it was I could not say. Until I saw you. You said Galadriel feels I am still tied to you."

"And do you?" he asked softly.

Mairen lifted a hand to caress his face, a gesture he had wanted to do for so long. "I think she is right, but . . ."

Haldir caught her hand and pulled her palm against his lips, kissing it. "But?"

She took a wavering breath. "I don't know what else. I was meant to help you. I know this in my heart, Haldir. Whether it was saving your life and bringing you home, or meeting you at Helms Deep. I sense that I was meant to be there. I fear what more might lie in store, and I am also afraid you have no more need of me." She pressed his lips with her fingers when he began to speak. "I feel almost whole again. The memories of both lives are really mine. But I don't know where I belong yet, Haldir. I must return to Rohan."

He felt the despair eat at his heart, but pushed it away. "For how long?"

She started to answer but then glanced away, her face tight. "Does it matter?"

It was a foolish question, but then Galadriel had been correct that he had hidden much from Mairen. He gripped her chin, drawing her gaze back to him. "It matters very much. It may have been the Valar's doing that brought you into my life Mairen. But it is mine that wishes to keep you beside me. Have you given no consideration that you can stay here?"

She smiled, a tremulous curve to her lips that made him want to kiss her. "With you?"

"With me."

"Would you go with Galadriel when she sails to the West?"

He let go, dropping his hand at the surprising question. "I don't know. She has felt the call to go strengthen as her power wanes. Celeborn grows quiet and I fear he knows she will leave soon, yet I sense he is not yet ready. She does not need me as a guardian on the ship nor in Valinor. I would say that I am not ready to depart as yet, but I cannot say for how long."

She sighed, was it in relief? "So you would stay in Lórien with Celeborn."

"Yes."

Mairen rose onto her knees, and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. "I have wanted to do that since you kissed me in your talan the first week I was here." She grinned sheepishly and he almost laughed. "I do not know what will happen, Haldir, when I go through whatever it is I must to finish this thing. But I miss my brothers and I must go back to Rohan. Whatever happens though, I know now that it is not just Seothlindë's memories I feel." She rose to her feet, placing her hands on her hips. "I do know that I expect a full report of what is happening in Rohan as you promised."

Haldir suppressed a grin and rose beside her. "Indeed. You are quite bossy, my lady. I will give you your report after I speak with Galadriel."

Mairen reached out to caress the leather strap that lay over his chest. "You still have your quiver and bow. You came to me first?"

Haldir caught her hand and kissed it again. "I did. Now come we must return to the city."

Mairen tucked her arm into his. "Élan thinks we are sleeping together."

"Élan should keep his mouth shut."

He felt Mairen's surprised glance and he gazed back sternly. "What his captain does or does not do is not fodder for gossip. He will regret mentioning it."

"You will not punish him, will you?"

"I do not think I will need to, I have a feeling you have done so already."

Mairen stepped back, pulling him to face her. "How did you know that?"

Haldir turned her around, facing the gates that lay ahead of them. "Élan is standing sentinel and he is about as white as the snow that caps the mountains. He will wonder all day whether you have spoken of it. I can truthfully say his anticipation of what I will do will be far more punishment than sending him to the fences for a few extra weeks."

"That is awful. Will you not relieve his concern? Or at least speak to him?"

Haldir swept her past the gate, nodding curtly to the pale sentinel who saluted promptly. "Indeed no, Mairen. I think I shall make him wait."

Mairen grimaced and would have turned back to look at Élan but Haldir had her elbow. He guided her to the stair leading to her talan. "Leave it be," he commanded softly. "I will return after I have spoken with Galadriel. But do not worry, your people are well."

Mairen stepped back when he released her elbow. "I will wait patiently then."

Haldir laughed. "You will wait impatiently or I do not know you." He took several steps and then turned back around to find her grinning, with her arms folded over her chest. "What did you say?"

"I just said that is a fine quiver you carry, that's all."


	12. Consequences of Choice

Chapter 12:

Consequences of Choice

Mairen stared at the dress dumbfounded. "You can't mean for me to wear that!"

Loriel looked at the dress hanging from her arm with a confused frown. "Of course I do, it's one of my favorites! Don't you like it?" She laid the dress on the bed, spreading out the gauzy fabric over the coverlet. "I thought the color would suit you." She reached out to drag Mairen to the bed, pushing her to sit.

"Loriel, I can't wear that," Mairen insisted, drawing back as if the garment might bite her.

Loriel stepped back, her hand on her hips and stared at Mairen in amusement. "You are afraid of a simple piece of fabric?"

Mairen rolled her eyes, and tried to look serious. "I know you don't understand, Loriel. But that dress is simply scandalizing. I cannot believe you wear such things. You are a warden!"

Loriel smoothed the fabric between her fingers, caressing the softness. "Yes I am, but I am also female, and I enjoy pretties such as this. Do not tell me you have not longed for silk and satins at times to dress your body? To impress a handsome young Rohirran?"

Mairen sprang off the bed, backing away from the dress and Loriel. "Not in something like that!"

The elven maiden laughed. "I disagree. I think the Lady Eowyn attempted to force you into wearing similar dresses, but the Rohirrim designs are far too heavy. They hide more than they reveal."

Mairen ran a hand over her heated cheeks. "That is the general idea with clothes, Loriel."

The elf laughed again. "Haldir asked me particularly to bring you something to wear for the Lammas festival. I think, with hopes that I might convince you it is accepted for a warrior to allow herself to be a female as well. Come, you will make the March Warden stare all evening. You have already drawn his attention. Make of it what you will. Or are you afraid?"

Mairen scowled, spinning away from the elf and the tantalizing dress. "I understand what you are saying, Loriel. But in that garment I will be nearly naked."

"Indeed. And so will many others. Has Haldir not told you of this festival? It celebrates Lammas, the height of summer. Our lives of late have few joys and we must hang onto those we still have. Lammas is one. Many will tempt others, many will join tonight, and many will take lovers to their beds. What would you do?"

Mairen bit her lip. "I'll just sit and watch, thank you." She cringed as Loriel's laughter tinkled through the room.

"You_ are_ afraid. I have seen you walk amid the darkness showing no fear of orcs or such kind. And yet you fear the very body you possess. Silly Rohirran. Loosen up your tight hold on your reservations. Let yourself be free, Mairen. It may help you with your troubles, you know."

Mairen glanced at the dress, the sheer fabric glistening in the lamplight. "I will feel so exposed. I have never worn such a thing."

The elleth gathered the garment and brought it to Mairen, holding it up over her shoulders. "It is a wee bit long, but many like to have the gowns drag upon the ground. Galadriel is forever holding up her dress." She pulled one of Mairen's arms out wide to press the fabric against her. "Excellent. The yellow blends well with your skin tone, and brings out the gold in your eyes. I think your brothers would be hard pressed to recognize you once we are done."

Mairen heaved a great sigh as Loriel pushed her toward the bathing area where a large tub waited for her. "Indeed, Loriel, they will think I have truly gone mad. It has only been a week since Haldir returned from the border, and he has hardly strayed from my side. I fear he thinks I am going to keel over at any moment."

Loriel pulled several large cloths from a shelf and turned back to Mairen. "He said you have not much more time, Mairen. All the more to enjoy the festival tonight."

Mairen ran her hands through the warm water of the tub; the fragrance from the oils and salts Loriel threw in was heady. "You make it sound like I am going to die."

Loriel placed the towels on a small stool, and faced Mairen. "You don't know what will happen, Mairen. I think you will be fine, and you must believe this as well. Positive thoughts will keep the evil at bay."

Mairen pulled the tunic off her shoulders and stepped into the tub, sliding down as the warmth spread through her body. "Evil? Nay it's not evil, only frustrating. But you're right, Loriel. I should enjoy tonight." She slid down under the water; she would not be in Lórien much longer.

Haldir slid his dagger into his boot, the only weapon he would carry. The tall boots gripped his calves tightly, and the dagger fit snugly against his leg. His leggings were a deep bronze, and over them he wore a tunic Galadriel had given him only last year, a deep gold and green with such heavy embroidery it weighed more than his boots. The tunic was layered over his usual black undershirt, the silk rustling softly as he straightened from the chair.

What had Loriel brought Mairen, he wondered? Had she been successful in coaxing the Rohirran to dress in one of her gowns? He hoped so, anticipating the effect the elvish dress might have on her. Or would her Rohirrim upbringing force her to decline. He thought not, knowing Loriel's powers of persuasion. He could just imagine what his warden would pull out of her thin sleeve to manipulate Mairen.

The woman would not stand a chance. But yet, he knew she would see it as the challenge it was.

He drew the curtain back at the window, staring out into the dusky shadows of early evening. Already he could hear the singing as the festival preparations began. He allowed the drape to fall as a soft knock sounded on the door.

Rúmil bowed grandly, his arm sweeping out before him as Haldir opened the door. "Good evening brother. Orophin is sincerely upset to find his rotation on the fences due at Lammas. He thinks you may have had a hand in that. To my advantage, thank you."

Haldir moved past Rúmil, shaking his head. "The change of guard is as it was. I have not made any adjustments. I would have rather he been here as well."

Rúmil caught up, and glanced his way. "Why?"

Haldir sent Rúmil a troubled gaze. "Mairen grows close to her final test. I would have my brothers near when she does."

Rúmil's expression grew apprehensive. "You fear what will happen. You must hold faith Haldir. She has the strength of an elf, plus the stubbornness of the Rohirrim." He laughed softly. "What better combination can you find, brother? But I can send for Orophin?"

The elf skipped down the stair beside Haldir as he shook his head again. "Nay, he will return shortly at any point. It is best to keep things as normal as possible."

Rúmil's lips drew together as he studied Haldir. "I have heard that you invited Mairen to attend tonight. Do you not fear she may be scandalized? The Lammas festival often grows quite merry in the late eve."

Haldir smiled sardonically. "Merry is putting it quite mildly. I know not how she will see the event but I shall find it quite interesting to watch."

Rúmil laughed, dragging Haldir to a halt. "You will shock the woman. She has been brought up in Rohan, have you forgotten? A more uptight, stubborn folk could you find in all the lands of Arda, and you ask her to an elvish festival. She will cringe and be revolted at our open displays of love and frivolity."

Haldir's grey eyes glittered. "You underestimate Mairen, Rúmil. I have sent Loriel to her, and I am quite certain that she will attend, not as a Rohirran warrior but as an elf."

Rúmil stumbled, and then gazed at Haldir in surprise. "An elf? What do you mean? Loriel is lovely, and she has some …. Haldir, you don't think she will be able to get Mairen to wear some of those dresses she is famous for… Haldir!"

The March Warden laughed softly, hauling Rúmil further down the path. "If I know one thing about Mairen, she cannot resist a challenge. She has made enough comments that she is a warrior, and Loriel will know just what to say that will force her to prove she is more than that."

Rúmil's eyes twinkled. "You had better hope for your sake that she has only eyes for you, March Warden. Dressed in one of Loriel's gowns she will be certain to have many fawning over her tonight."

"She will, but I am not concerned."

Rúmil chuckled. "She does not wear a tag that states she is your property."

Haldir's glance was stern. "She is not property, Rúmil. But she will be mine."

Rúmil's fleeting look made Haldir's lips thin. "So you will reveal yourself to all tonight. Are you sure that is wise? Are you sure how she feels?"

Haldir stopped abruptly. "She will do what her heart wishes. But I will test the waters on how far she will go to show it, no?"

Rúmil leaned back to study Haldir. "I just hope the water is not too hot, Haldir."

Loriel opened the door to the bathing chamber and Mairen struggled with the urge to throw herself behind the door. The elleth's gasp reinforced Mairen's fear that she looked ridiculous in the filmy gown. The dress was made of four layers, the first a deep gold and subsequent layers fading in color until the top was pale saffron. The layers were not heavy, but made of a sheer diaphanous material that floated with every step. The dress did not hide much and such was her discomfort that Loriel had finally given in and brought her a thin silk chemise in another gilded color to wear underneath. But the undergarment only covered to the hips, leaving her legs bare and exposed under the filmy layers. She turned to face the elf, her face hot with mortification.

"I look awful. I am not meant to wear such things…" She stared at the elleth for Loriel had also changed and now wore a deep blue gown similar to Mairen's. The dress hung straight from her shoulders, her arms bare and beneath it Mairen could see the hint of bare skin, her shape hidden yet not hidden, as she moved. The elf's blond hair was down, crimped from her braids, and hung nearly to her hips.

"You look remarkable, Mairen," Loriel countered with an amused smile. "If I had not seen you with my own eyes I would not have believed you are the same woman as the one who wears a Rohirran blade."

Mairen glanced at the weapon where it leaned against the wall. "I find that far more comfortable to wear."

"Indeed, for it protects you. You are now left with only your mind and body. You have to learn to use those weapons as well. I see I will have to explain some things for you. Come we should work with your hair." The elleth drew Mairen to a seat in front of her mirror. Mairen stared at her reflection, blinking as for a moment green eyes seemed to stare back and then they were gone. Loriel gave her a curious glance and then drew her comb through Mairen's hair.

"Your coloring is darker than ours, yet full of warmth. Your have very heavy hair, Mairen. It must weigh much when wet."

Mairen nodded, closing her eyes against her reflection as not to see the thin dress. Loriel spoke softly, her voice a low murmur as she talked. Mairen drifted, keeping her mind blank and then her eyes flew open at Loriel's last words.

"Haldir is singing?"

The warden grinned. "Aye. He does often, especially at Lammas. It is a beautiful song he sings."

Mairen tried to imagine the tall warrior singing but the image eluded her. She shook her head, another surprise from the March Warden. "So what must I do, Loriel?"

The elleth pulled Mairen to her feet. "You will know. Do not be the coy maiden, take what you desire, Mairen. Life is too fleeting, especially for you. For us, with the years long in our hearts, Lammas allows us a moment of frivolity and freedom to play."

They stepped outside, the warm air fluttering their gowns as Mairen paused at the stair. "And afterwards?"

Loriel wrapped her arm around Mairen's waist. "And afterwards we bask in the memories. So make them delightful, Mairen."

Haldir was standing beside Galadriel when Mairen entered the glade where the festival was being held. He was dazzling, but Mairen did not have long to stare as Loriel saw him and drew Mairen behind a group of elves. Loriel smiled mischieviously and waved to the group as they turned as one to stare. An elf stepped forward, his green eyes appraising both females slowly.

"I would not have recognized you had Loriel not been with you, my lady." The elf bowed to Mairen. She could not remember his name but could see his gaze was warm with appreciation.

"Indeed, I believe the March Warden has been hiding a great treasure." Another elf took Mairen's fingers, kissing them eagerly.

Loriel's smile curled one corner of her mouth; in her finery she still exuded an air of strength. "You will find serious competition tonight, Erediweth."

The elf grinned, shrugging off her warning. "Haldir is the one who shall find himself hard pressed to gain access to the fair maid. This is Lammas. Welcome, Mairen of Rohan. I hope that I might find a moment at your side?"

Mairen found her fingers again in the elf's grasp as he kissed them lightly. She pulled back, fearing her face was red with embarrassment. She'd never had been fawned over like this. Perhaps they were only trying to be kind?

She began to voice that thought when Loriel drew her through the crowd swiftly, the elves parting with murmured surprise to allow them through. They weaved their way toward Rúmil, who stood at the back of the crowd, holding a goblet in one hand while he rested his arm on the shoulder of his tall companion. He wore a dark blue tunic that made the blond strands of his hair gleam as they lay against his chest and he laughed, his head cocked as he listened to the elf. Loriel called out and Rúmil turned toward them. He grinned in welcome but then Loriel drew aside, pulling Mairen forward and the grin faded slowly from his face. Rúmil sent a swift glance toward the Lady and Haldir in the distance, and then stepped forward with a decidely approving expression.

"Fair the gods, can it be Mairen who stands before me? I think the pot is boiling!" he mused, and handed his goblet to the stunned elf beside him. He reached out, grasping Mairen's hands to pull her into a tight hug.

Mairen was startled as Rúmil's lips pressed her cheek and then slid near her ear. "You are fire, and have warmed many a cold elvish heart, dear lady."

Mairen pushed out of his embrace, lifting her chin. "I am but an observer this day, Rúmil."

The warden lifted a brow and chuckled. "You will not be an observer for long, I swear. Will you refuse all requests for company? Or do you wait for one in particular?" He glanced at his companion as the elf pressed the goblet back into Rúmil's hand.

"She is only waiting for my invitation!" the elf declared and took a step toward Mairen but Rúmil's arm shot out and blocked his advance.

"I think not, fair Demieth. She has eyes for one taller than even you, and of broader shoulders."

Demieth pushed aside Rúmil's arm to bow toward Mairen. "Tell me this is not true? I am the one who can make your heart sing. I am not a course warden such as the one beside me. I can speak of fair days in words that …"

"She'll not even understand," Rúmil finished with a laugh and a wink. "Mairen speaks Sindarin without realizing it sometimes, but your poems in the high speech will fall on deaf ears."

"As they do on many, including yours, Rúmil," Demieth scolded. "Haldir said your studies in Quenyan were far lacking his."

Rúmil flashed the elf a wry look. "Indeed, what use have I for the high speech? I do not participate in the trappings of the festival rituals. I leave it for my brother in his exalted position as March Warden." He threw an arm over Loriel's shoulder. "Truly, warden of my heart, you have out done yourself. Is that not your dress?"

Loriel tilted her head, resting it against Rúmil's shoulder to study Mairen. "Indeed. Does it not suit her? I had a hard time convincing her it was acceptable to wear it."

Demieth shot Mairen an enthusiastic grin. "Well, I for one am delighted Loriel has such strong powers of persuasion. Even dressed in the dull green of warden tunics you have shown like a star that glitters in the velvet shadows of night…" he began, but was rudely interrupted by Loriel.

"Do not start, Demieth," she admonished, patting the crestfallen elf's shoulder. "You have as much chance as the next elf to garner Mairen's attention this eve, but the singing starts soon and we are not yet in place." She pushed him aside and caught Mairen's hand.

Demieth reached out to hold them back but Loriel only winked, drawing Mairen further through the crowd. Mairen looked back to see Rúmil laughing, shaking his head.

"Loriel, you are a wicked elf. I am dressed far different than many of the elves here. You are playing me for a fool."

The warden spun around. "Fool? I am the fool for standing beside you, silly Rohirran. My efforts at snaring someone will be challenging as it is. I did as I was asked. Do you not think Haldir was aware of what I tend to wear? He must have liked my gowns." She smiled blandly. "If you persist on complaining I shall leave you alone!"

Mairen gripped Loriel's arm. "Please do not leave me alone, not yet." She glanced around; indeed many were still staring at the two. She sighed, and then smiled. "I have not had so many glances turned my way. It is very overwhelming."

"It is empowering," Loriel corrected. "You have the ability to wield it as you will. Haldir has caught sight of you."

Mairen stiffened and whirled to face the area where Haldir was standing. He was not looking at her, but listening to the Lady. Galadriel was ethereal, glistening in a sheer white gown with sleeves that dripped over her fingers. Her hair curled around her waist, and the gilded crown on her forehead winked in the flickering light of the candles. Haldir bowed and then looked over his shoulder; his silvery hair shielding his face for a moment and then Mairen found his gaze was on her. The heat in his eyes made her feel faint, and she turned away to face Loriel again.

"What will you do, Mairen?" Loriel's smile was indeed wicked.

Mairen took a deep breath to steady her nerves and then returned Loriel's smile. "I think it's time to play cat and mouse."

Loriel laughed, shaking her head as she pulled Mairen through the crowd. "Just watch for the traps, mouse. They will be everywhere, do not doubt."

They finally stopped, and Loriel sat down on a low bench underneath a large tree. The center of the clearing was empty as the elves assembled near the outside, and then into the center Galadriel glided serenely, escorted as always by Lord Celeborn. The lord was exquisite in a silver tunic, nearly the same shade as his hair. It contrasted strikingly with his darker complexion, giving him a very exotic air. He bowed to Galadriel and released her hand, moving to stand a step away. Haldir followed, impressive in a gold and green tunic, hands folded behind his back, his stance relaxed yet Mairen could perceive a certain restlessness in the set of his shoulders.

Loriel leaned close. "He cannot wait to be away. This is very difficult for him, you know. He does not welcome this aspect of his duties. Although he sings very fine." The elleth pulled Mairen's hand into hers to squeeze it. "I admire him for his skills, Mairen, but also for the depth of his convictions, and his loyalty to duty. He is very noble and even though I tease, do not make the mistake of thinking I do not hold him the highest esteem."

Mairen smiled, her gaze still on the handsome elf. "Indeed, from the start I could see your respect." She grew silent as Galadriel lifted her hand.

The crowd grew instantly quiet. The Lady raised her other hand and lifted them toward the sky. "Blessed Elbereth," she intoned quietly, yet her voice rang out in the forest. "May thee honor our festival this eve, allow us to pay tribute to you and all the Valar." She began to sing, her voice melodious, a soft whisper that wrapped around Mairen, drawing her into the song. The woods seemed to bow toward the Lady, the trees suddenly silent in the evening breeze, as if they too held their breath.

The candlelight flickered, fireflies winked through the clearing and time seemed to drift to a halt, the flames stilled, the tiny insects held in place, their green lights blinking as Galadriel continued to sing. Around her Mairen could feel the pull of the words, drawing forth the magic of the wood into the clearing. She wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling the brush of something against her skin. She had forgotten about the elve's magic. She had been healed, seen Haldir healed, but yet here was an actual manifestation of their powers.

The air crackled, the light of the candles flaming brighter as Galadriel continued, drawing out what Mairen could only name as an essence of the wood. The smell of the forest wreathed her head and she closed her eyes, feeling the tension that circled the clearing. This was a part of her; inside her was a link to this magic. Mairen shivered, tightening her grip on her arms, inside of her lay part of this heritage.

A new voice joined Galadriel's; a deeper tone that soon remained alone and Mairen opened her eyes to watch Haldir sing. He stood with eyes closed, his words unfamiliar to her, yet she could sense the song was one of admiration for the wood, for the trees seemed to sway in time with the melody. His voice was strong, echoing in the clearing, and she sank back, spellbound by the harmony of his words. Around her voices began to chime in, and she blinked to see many had risen to gather around the center of the clearing, encircling the three. Round the elves went, linking hands and dancing to the sway of Haldir's song.

Loriel left her to join the growing ring, and Mairen sank back, caught tight in the hold of the magic, yet unwilling to participate. She feared the magic as much as she was held in its sway, but found her choice taken from her as Rúmil swept beside her, grasping her hand to pull her forcefully into the ring. Hands clasped hers, and she was suddenly engulfed in a dizzying array of sensation. The elves were a conduit, the enchantment binding them together. Mairen felt like she was floating, her thoughts swept aside as a wave of elation rushed through her, empowered by the magic of Galadriel and by Haldir's song. The elves lifted their voices in ringing harmonies that left her breathless and grasping for a solid anchor as she was enveloped within their circle.

She suddenly found herself staring at Haldir, his grey eyes glittering as he faced her, the ring of elves now broken into smaller circles as musicians began to play a livelier tune. She realized he was gripping her arms; her anchor as she sagged from the sensations of the magical circle. Loriel cut between them with an impish smile, drawing Mairen out of Haldir's grasp and into another smaller circle. They whirled away, leaving the March Warden staring after them with such a fierce expression that Mairen grew anxious that Loriel would find herself in serious trouble.

Loriel laughed, unfazed by the threatening glare. "I have done what I can," she said, waving away Mairen's concerns. "The game is now yours." She stepped out of the ring, and Mairen lost sight of her as the elves drew back together, sweeping Mairen into their dance.

Mairen found it only took a quick glance, a gaze met to find another elf sweeping her along into the next link. The steps came to her unconsciously and she spun, from circle to circle, part of a weaving chain that kept the clearing humming with energy. She evaded the circles that swept around Haldir, for he still stood within the center of the dance, as did both Galadriel and Celeborn, surrounded by the elves as they weaved around them.

The music faded, until a single instrument reverberated inside the wood, a low undertone of accord with the forest. The wooden flute's melody began low then sprang into breathless high harmonies, a transcendence of the soul, calling to the elves. Mairen swayed as she was suddenly freed from the tight embrace of her partner to find another set of hands enveloping her waist tightly. Strong and familiar, her eyes flew open to find it was Haldir who swung her around, lifting her up into the air only to set her on her feet. He wrapped his hand firmly around hers drawing her into the next circle, ignoring the normal change of partners. He drew her forward, his gaze challenging her to oppose him.

The music enfolded them, and she felt as if the energy of the wood flowed through Haldir as his fingers gripped hers tightly. He slid an arm around her back and swung her through the next circle, entering the ring and whirling her around as the elves danced around them. His grip was tight, nearly painful, pulling Mairen back from the haziness of the magic.

She stared at him for his eyes gleamed with a boldness she had not seen him reveal. What did he intend she wondered suddenly, pushing away a sudden thrill of nervousness that fluttered in her stomach. They circled, their hands held high as the elven ring around them danced merrily, the mood now festive, the elves laughing as they sang. Haldir dropped his arm, but did not release her hand. He pulled her toward him, slowing his steps until they stood still, encircled by the cheerful elves around them.

"What games do you play tonight, Mairen?"

She smiled, stepping back away from him, better to gain a breath at the heated look he was giving her. "Games, Haldir? I only dance as I was asked."

Haldir lifted his chin, his silver eyes narrowing as Rúmil appeared, and wrapped an arm around both Haldir and Mairen. "Delightful singing as usual, brother. But I have promised Mairen this dance." He grabbed Mairen's hand, whisking her away quickly through the throng of dancers.

Mairen dared not look back at Haldir, and laughed as Rúmil swung her into his arms, joining a circle as far from Haldir as they could get.

Rúmil grinned. "Loriel said you might like to be rescued. Have I done well?"

Mairen squeezed his hand as she was spun in a circle. "He is going to be furious."

Rúmil laughed. "Indeed, he is livid, his gaze is smoldering as we speak. But I fear you will take the brunt of his displeasure, fair Mairen. Can you handle the flames?"

She sighed, weaving under his arm to sneak a quick glance at Haldir who was moving slowly toward them. Determinedly toward them, ignoring the amused looks passed his way, his gaze trained on her.

Mairen swallowed, suddenly filled with trepidation.

Rúmil gave her a curious look, and peered over his shoulder. "Ah, he stalks. He can be very frightening when he is set on a particular course."

Mairen pulled her hand from Rúmil's. "I think I shall end this dance, Rúmil. Thank you." She stepped back as Rúmil bowed slightly.

"You flee, little bird?"

Mairen took another step back, noting Haldir was gaining, the dancers now moving out of his way. "Nay, Rúmil, only changing tactics." She blew him a kiss, and with a last worried glance at Haldir slid out of the group of dancers and fled into the crowded edges of the clearing.

Haldir watched Mairen disappear into the crowd. Rúmil's gaze was amused as he waited for Haldir to reach him.

"You frightened the poor maid away. You should not stalk your prey so boldly."

Haldir's chin rose slightly. "Not true, Rúmil. I would have it known exactly my intentions for this evening. The obstacles drop from my path quickly with that knowledge."

Rúmil laughed. "Mairen has no hope to withstand you. Be gentle Haldir."

Haldir smiled lazily and threaded his way into the crowd. He caught sight of Mairen briefly, as a golden-haired sentinel cornered her, and then she saw him and backed away, spinning into the crowd again. The sentinel clasped a hand on Haldir's arm as he moved past.

"Your mouse moves quickly Haldir. You will need to pounce soon. Once beyond the clearing the magic will disperse, and she will not be such an easy catch."

Haldir shrugged off the elf's grip. "She is not an easy catch, no matter. The magic has nothing to do with it."

The sentinel frowned. "She means much to you then, if you take this beyond the festival."

Haldir met the elf's gaze, his silver eyes a sharp edged blade. "This began long before the festival."

The elf raised a brow and stepped back. "It is not my place to stand in the way of the Valar's will. I will aid you if you like."

Haldir began to reject his offer and then changed his mind. Perhaps it might be better to draw Mairen away before the evening indeed grew ardent. Already many couples had formed and the dancing had taken on a different feel. He nodded and the sentinel smiled, disappearing into the crowd as well.

Mairen's yellow dress flashed across the clearing and Haldir smiled.

Mairen didn't want to look behind her, sensing the elf stalking her well enough by the glances that were quickly turning her way. Something had changed in his pursuit, and she found her nerves were now clamoring, her stomach clenched with nervousness.

She was out of her league, had pushed far beyond her comfort zone in dealing with him. But she had begun the game. She must play it out, for whatever its worth. She'd enjoy a kiss, if not more. It was what she wanted… wasn't it?

She hurried past a group of elves, and then froze as two stepped into her path. They both smiled but their eyes held her still.

"Such hurry, my lady. Do you leave so soon?"

Mairen could sense Haldir closing in. She smiled at the two elves. "Leaving? Of course not, but I do need to get past."

The elf on the right grinned. "The March Warden seems intent on gaining your side. Does he not, Elweth?" the elf asked his companion.

Mairen resisted the urge to look behind her. "Of course he does. But it is not yet time."

Elweth's brow rose into his hair, the tresses a darker blond than many she'd seen. "Not yet time? Do you play games with the captain?"

Mairen stared at the elf, something about his voice seemed familiar. But she didn't have time to try and remember. She had to get past. She moved a step closer, and gave them both a fluttering glance, laughing at the sudden image of her doing so. "Of course, I have eluded the elf all evening, you have seen it."

"Indeed," the first elf agreed. "I think few have not noticed your efforts."

Mairen gripped his arm, leaning against the taut muscles. "Do you think Haldir wants an easy catch? I have made my plans, and now you stand in my way."

The elf looked surprised. "You play a dangerous game, Rohirran. You have no idea of who you deal with."

She finally glanced behind her, sensing her time was growing very short. "Dangerous, for whom, my lord? If you would but let me pass?"

The elf stepped aside but Elweth caught her wrist for a moment. "Be careful, the magic of the glade gives one false perceptions. What you feel right now may not be truly what is in your heart. Or do you enjoy leading the March Warden on? You may not like what you get, if he catches you." The elf's tone seemed annoyed, but why?

She met Elweth's gaze evenly he seemed so familiar. "I know what I want." She glanced quickly behind her. "I just don't know yet what the March Warden wants."

The two elves looked at each other and then past her shoulder. "I think it is very obvious what the March Warden wants," Elweth said mockingly. "But will you give it to him?"

Mairen pulled her arm free with a frown. Why was the elf so upset, his whole demeanor seemed angry? Had she known him in the past? She had no time to consider more as she pushed past them and fled deeper into the forest.

Mairen leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. The wood was dark, the dim glitter of the clearing only a faint glimmer in the distance. She had stumbled, nearly fallen twice, but found the path finally, and now stopped to catch her breath, and something else.

She sensed Haldir a brief second before his arm snaked out to grab her, and she whirled placing the tree between them.

"The game grows old, Mairen."

She peeked around the tree and then spun around the opposite direction, knowing he would reverse direction as well. He did just that, but she was ready and hurled herself against him, rather than away as he expected. Haldir backed against the tree, his hands firmly on her hips as she pressed her hands on his chest. She was sprawled against him, her feet nearly off the ground, which he did not seem to notice and they stared at each other for a moment.

"Old, Haldir? This is the oldest game in the world. But I thought to try a new tactic," she said breathlessly.

Haldir smiled, his grey eyes sparkling. She wondered how she could tell, for the night was dark, only the moonlight spilling off the leaves and reflecting off the grey barked trees gave any light. She brushed away the thought and focused on the elf.

"Change of tactic. What is this tactic?" Haldir asked in amusement.

"Did you think I would evade you all night?"

"The thought did cross my mind," Haldir admitted.

Mairen smiled, aware fully of the sinewy body she pressed against. "Much more interesting to keep you guessing."

"And if I had given up?"

Mairen slid her hands around his neck, leaning against him. His hair was silky, the strands sliding through her fingers. "But you did not."

Haldir's hands slid lower, bracing her against him. "No, I did not. And so?" He left the question hanging in the air.

Mairen answered with her lips, trembling suddenly as his hands swept up to her face, pulling her closer. She could feel his heart, beating beneath her, his body suddenly tense as he kissed her. He straightened, bending her back to fit snugly against him as his lips caressed hers. Their bodies seemed to nearly meld together, his breath warm against her cheek as his kissed the line of her jaw.

"You are certain of this?" His voice was deeper than she had she had heard it, laced with a trace of concern.

He kissed her neck and then her lips again as she sighed in breathless delight at the sensations that were now fluttering along her nerves. She was warm, nay hot then cold, shivering and then flushing with warmth the next. She had a few lovers in the past but none made her feel as she did now, with only the touch of his lips. She refused to dwell on it, knowing how quickly her thoughts could turn inward, spoiling the moment.

Mairen took a deep breath, taking a step back. His hands dropped at his sides, his gaze heated yet also guarded. "We are not in the glade anymore," she said quietly. "I was told the magic disperses once outside the circle."

Haldir's eyes slid over her slowly. "Aye, it is true. So then have you changed your mind?"

Mairen felt like her heart was going to burst, it pounded so wildly in her chest. Had she? No, she wanted the elf, now, no matter the consequences. Perhaps she would not survive the merging of her thoughts; perhaps her life would be cut short as Seothlindë's was. She wouldn't miss this chance, if anything, it would be a memory to keep her warm at night, back in the chill of winter on the plain. She would remember him, as he was tonight, Elf from his polished boots to the silver streaked golden hair. An elf whose slate-grey eyes were bland, his control supreme as he waited for her decision, leaving her to decide this night's madness.

She traced the embroidery on his chest, the whorls of lines organic and intricate. He stood still and only stared as she stepped closer, sliding her fingers lower over the stitching. "I don't know who or just what I will become, Haldir. You have offered me great kindness. You have awakened feelings I have never had before. Would I be a fool to deny what my heart wants? But what of the consequences? Do I need to concern myself as to what might occur afterwards?"

He frowned, clearly confused. "Elves have the ability to . . ."

She pressed her fingers over his lips with a smile. "I have heard that. It is not what I mean. Will my time with you affect my memory? I will be honest, I am afraid, Haldir. I know the final days are at hand for me, and I wonder if somehow this will trigger …

It was his turn to cover her lips, but he did so with a heady kiss that erased the thoughts from her mind. She felt her knees melting, the sultry warmth growing deep in her belly.

"I do not know when it will happen, does it matter? I shall be there whenever it occurs." He lifted her into his arms as she slid her hands behind his neck. "But the night lies long before us, will you accept what I have to offer?"

She snuggled against his chest. "Yes, I decided that long ago. I just didn't know if you felt the same way."

Haldir's arm tightened. "Then we have wasted too much time. But you are sure?"

Mairen tilted her head back so she could see his eyes. "It's my decision?"

Haldir's mouth curved slightly, the grey eyes warm as he met her gaze. "Indeed, but I would have it made without any influence from me or our magic."

Mairen looked back toward the glitter of the clearing. "I know what I want. And I am free to make my choice, there is no magic blinding my decision."

The glade was misty, tendrils of fog trailed around the trees, diffusing the sunlight as it slanted through the trees. Haldir sat up, his hair sliding down his bare back as he curled an arm around Mairen, pulling her against his chest. Mairen had whimpered softly and lay limp in his arms as he held her.

"Mairen?" he caressed her cheek and her eyes fluttered open, but they were dark with pain.

"Haldir?" she began but then squeezed her eyes shut as a shudder ran through her. Had she been right and their joining the beginning of her final trial? He moaned softly as she curled up, trembling against him.

"Mairen, we must get you back to your talan. Can you stand?"

She blinked, her face growing even paler as he watched. He cursed softly and laid her gently on the ground. He should have been stronger; he'd let his desires rule his actions. Was she truly ready, or had he pushed her into an deed she was not prepared for?

Haldir pulled on his boots swiftly, ignoring the tunics lying on the ground and wrapped Mairen in her dress. He lifted her into his arms as she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Haldir, don't leave me."

"I will be with you, Mairen. Hold fast."

She seemed to relax, but Haldir hurried out of the glade and into the city.

Celeborn leaned over Mairen, brushing aside the sandy brown hair that fluttered over her cheek. She was very pale, her skin nearly translucent. They had known the final test would be hard for her, but his heart ached at the depth of her pain. They had watched as she thrashed, held down at times by Haldir, watched as she cried out in agony. The effect on his March Warden was tangible in the drawn expression the warden now held, sitting beside the bed for the third day.

"She sleeps, Haldir."

Haldir's expression remained bleak. "Are you sure, Celeborn? She has not moved an inch in two days."

The elven lord ignored the warden's despair. "She sleeps," he insisted. He straightened, and moved beside the March Warden to grip his shoulder. "She chose to lie with you Haldir, knowing somehow what might come of it. Do you not consider this was as it was meant to be? The Valar act in mysterious ways, we are often led to actions by their hand."

Haldir's grey eyes were skeptical. "I don't know that I believe that. I fear I pushed her into the decision. It was I who asked Loriel to persuade her to come to the festival. Had she not, this would probably not have happened yet. I fear she was not fully prepared."

Celeborn tightened his grip on Haldir's shoulder, forcing the March Warden to look up. "She had the choice. Do not demean her decision by such thoughts, Haldir. She came to you, fully aware of the magic of the circle. She came to you outside the glade, conscious of what she was about to do."

Haldir sighed, nodding shortly. "You are right. She led me well, as I think she intended. But I still fear it was too soon."

Celeborn released Haldir's shoulder and stepped back to gaze at Mairen. "I do not agree. She has been ready for several weeks. Her decisions made, her choice to go on. She will return to Rohan, Haldir."

The March Warden's eyes grew impassive; Celeborn watched the elf draw the curtain over his emotions. "I am aware of her choice."

The elven lord slid his hands into his sleeves. "We cannot force her to stay. She must find her place. What she learns in her sleep, and why she has returned may alter that decision, but you must face the fact that she may not choose to stay here."

Haldir's lips drew together, but it was the only reflection of his thoughts. "She will go where she will. I have asked her to stay..."

"But she did not answer," Celeborn finished quietly. "Because she did not know if that is where she belonged. Give her time to find out Haldir. Have faith the Valar did this for a reason."

"Perhaps she has already finished the tasks the Valar had for her."

Celeborn met the silver gaze with an amused one. "If that were so, Haldir, why would she need you to complete her transformation? Seothlindë was adamant she belonged at your side. Not for a day, or a few years, but as a part of your life. Do you not think Mairen has that same sense?"

Haldir stared at Celeborn. "I will keep that thought near to my heart, my lord. It is my only hope."

Elweth wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, the heat from the foundry made breathing difficult, yet he drew closer to the fire, sliding the long metal rod into the flames. Sparks shot out, dancing over the stone floor yet Elweth ignored them, wiping his forehead again as he held the steel firmly. Only for a few more minutes and the metal would be pliable to shape once more. How many times had he performed this action, thousands upon thousands, and yet it still gave him pleasure. To create something that was both functional as well as beautiful was the very nature of his life. He withdrew the rod and brought it quickly to the large anvil and laid it gently on the stone. He picked up the heavy mallet, and with the ease of long practice began to pound the rod flat.

It took him several moments to realize he had an audience and he paused in the motion of slamming the hammer down again when he saw her.

"Loriel?"

The elven warrior stepped out of the shadows. "I have always admired your skill, Elweth. Watching you work is fascinating."

Elweth gave her a skeptical glance, pounding the metal a few more times. He set aside the mallet and plunged the still glowing metal into a large vat of water. The steam rolled off the water, hissing as the molten metal cooled quickly. "Interesting comment, warden, since you have never spoken of this before."

"Some things are better left unsaid, until the time is right."

He pulled the now grey metal out of the water and laid it back on the anvil. "Indeed? And what makes this the right time?" He picked up his hammer, and began to pound the metal again, forcing the steel to harden.

Loriel watched patiently. He paused sending her a questioning glance and she smiled. "I was waiting until the day you realized Seothlindë was truly gone."

Elweth stiffened and dropped the mallet onto the steel blade and turned to stare at the tall warden. "Seothlindë has been gone for years."

"So you thought, Elweth. But the news of the Rohirran, and the thought of her holding the fëa of an elf made you think twice. You were there the day she brought Haldir home, nearly dead. I saw you watching her with such intensity it made me wonder. What did you see in her, Elweth, that told you she held Seothlindë's soul?"

Elweth clenched his jaw. "You are mistaken, I saw nothing." He turned back to the anvil and picked up his hammer. Loriel's hand dropped over his, holding him still. He drew himself up, glaring at the warden. "Let go, Loriel. I have work to do."

The elleth smiled lazily. "I am not leaving until you explain, Elweth. I want to know what you saw. You see, it's important to me, and it will be to Haldir if I tell him how you pursued the fair elf when you went to the Havens with Haldir. Cirdan was thrilled with the sword Galadriel commissioned from you, and you in turn were fascinated by a harbor warden who had eyes for someone else."

"I did nothing. Haldir has nothing to be concerned about."

Loriel lifted a brow mockingly. "No? The March Warden may not have cared that you coveted Seothlindë, for she did not interest him more than a momentary fling. While you wished her to see you as she saw Haldir. But now, with the information that the Rohirran carries that same elf inside her head, that she is truly Seothlindë reborn, your mind rushes to think that perhaps she may accept you instead. I have waited for you to approach her but you hold back, why?"

Elweth laid his hammer gently on the anvil and turned to pick up a cloth to wipe his face, using the moment to gather his thoughts. It was impossible that Loriel has seen through him so clearly. But her words rang only too true.

"From the moment she carried Haldir on her horse, nearly dead, I knew she had not changed." Elweth folded the towel neatly, placing in on top of his hammer. "Seothlindë was adamant about Haldir, yet it did not stop her from playing games with me. If you know so much, Loriel, tell me how she treated me?"

Loriel smile faded, her eyes dropping to the floor. "She was cruel, I know. I saw it. You wonder how I know so well?" she laughed, a brittle sound that echoed off the stone foundry, amid the crackle of the fires. "As you watched Seothlindë, I watched you. So many years, Elweth, so many times that I started to speak out, to tell you how I felt, yet your eyes would turn inward and I knew you were thinking of her. What was it that settled so deeply into your heart?"

Elweth gazed thoughtfully at the warden. Had he been so self-absorbed? Loriel was well known, her skills and talents as a warden immeasurable. He'd made her the sword she carried with pride. "She was cruel. She gave me hope, then dashed it the next moment when she would speak about how she would live with Haldir. How she was meant for him and him only. Yet it was me she kissed, and more if I would have pressed it further."

Loriel drew back, her lips thin. "And you hoped to continue this with Mairen? Do you like such torture?"

"For a moment I hoped it might be different. That she would allow someone else inside her heart. But it was only a moment. Seothlindë was right, she was meant to be with Haldir, and now it is Mairen who has taken her place."

"How did you know, Elweth?"

He grasped Loriel's arm, sliding his hand to her wrist to trace the veins on the inside of her arm, and then over the palm of her hand. Loriel watched him calmly, very still. He glanced at her with an amused smile. "You have excellent nerves, as I guessed. Mairen, nee Seothlindë had strong nerves as well, except for one habit, a very frustrating problem for a warden. Her hands tremble when she is nervous. She always was clenching her hands, or thrusting them behind her or folding her arms. But that was my second clue."

Loriel pulled her arm back as Elweth frowned. "Haldir would have seen it had he bedded the elf, but he did not. Nor did I," he amended as Loriel's eyes narrowed. "But I did see her without her boots one day. She had gone to the shore, playing in the surf, as she liked to do. We sat on the edge of the sea, in the water and she showed me a mark upon her ankle. A strange mark that was different than any I'd seen before."

Loriel eyed him curiously. "Many are born with birthmarks, Elweth. I have a faint one on my hip."

Elweth sighed dramatically. "Yes, but no two are alike, Loriel. Except for Mairen's and Seothlindë's. They both have the same mark. When I saw Seothlindë's I did not realize what it was. But after I came to Lórien, I recognized the shape. They both have a mark that looks like a leaf, a mallyrn leaf. Small, not usually noticeable, but prominent enough that it caught my attention. When Mairen first came here she went to Haldir's talan. She fell asleep while she was waiting. I came in with Orophin, to gather Haldir's weapons. We covered her with a blanket but not before I saw her ankle. It was the same mark, Loriel. I would swear it."

"I believe you. I saw the mark before Lammas as well. But thought nothing of it."

Elweth reached out, gripping her arm. "It took me only moments to realize that she was Seothlindë, yet she was not. As soon as I heard that she was ill, with headaches and visions I knew I was right."

Loriel's eyes narrowed. "Why did you not speak to Galadriel?"

"Why, what good would it have been? They already had some suspicions. She carries too many traits that belong to elves." He released her arm and went back to the anvil and the waiting steel. He picked up the metal and shoved it deeply into the fire. The flames crackled, snapping at the blade. Elweth stared at it for a moment. "I hoped for a new chance, but I realized that it was futile. I wish it no more. But I fear she is still like Seothlindë. She plays games with Haldir like she did with me."

Loriel waited until he pulled the steel out of the oven, and had pounded it flat. Did she realize he hit it harder than he needed to? He lifted the metal staring at the blade in frustration. He was ruining it, taking his anger out on a simple object. And also on Loriel. It was not her fault.

"She is not Seothlindë, Elweth. Her game with Haldir was a very serious one, for her choice that night had grave consequences. I think she knew that, but she still pushed on. Had Haldir known what would happen, he would have never agreed. Have you seen her? She lies still as death. Haldir has not left her talan for days."

Elweth dropped the blade into the vat of water, ignoring it. "I did not know, Loriel. Will she come out of it?"

"Lord Celeborn seems to think so. But I had hoped something in what you knew would aid her."

Elweth shrugged. "I do not know, Loriel." He watched the warden sigh and turn away. "I am sorry to have not seen your despair. Would that you could forgive me and perhaps give me a second chance?"

Loriel stiffened and did not look back, but Elweth smiled at her answer. "I would like that, Elweth."


	13. Return

Title: Mairen- A Life Once Lost

Author: Fianna

Beta: Julie

Rating: Strictly Pg in this chapter – as for the rest.... Hmmm... it may get very interesting...

Warning: None, other than you might wish to strangle the main character when you're done..heheh..

Chapter 13: Return

The wind fluttered the long strands of Mairen's hair, heavy with the moisture picked up from the sea; it buffeted her, pushing her back onto her hands as she sat on the shore, staring out at the storm-tossed waves that rolled toward her, bleak and dark, almost angry.

The surf crashed onto the sandy beach, wave after relentless wave, pounding onto the shore with a deafening roar. Mairen lifted her chin, allowing the sting of the salty breeze to caress her face. She felt the thrill of the force before her, the strength and power the sea carried onto shore.

She carefully wiped the salt that clung to her eyelashes, watching another wave curl toward her, shivering as it slammed the sandy beach. Mairen knew she wasn't really here; she was somewhere in the city of Caras Galadhon. But the sea was too real and the spray stung, dampening her cheeks. She pulled another loose strand of hair back, and rose to her feet, sinking into the damp sand as the water rushed around her ankles.

Where was she, and why? She looked into the grey sky. It loomed overhead, dark and gloomy with the threat of rain. Just like how she felt, full of anger and despair. Why? She had no idea, only that the emotions suddenly raged inside her head as strongly as the ocean roared to shore. She rubbed her temples and then froze, her hands still touching her forehead, when a voice spoke behind her.

"Why are you angry?" the voice asked thoughtfully.

Mairen turned around, leaving the waves behind her, and found only the wide expanse of beach in front of her. "I am not sure," she answered vaguely; she really didn't know why she felt so frustrated. "Where am I?"

"That is a good question," the voice replied. "I cannot answer, for what lies here is a product of your mind. It is very... interesting."

Mairen narrowed her eyes against the wind, pulling back the hair that swept over her face and caught in the corner of her mouth. "Where are you?"

"Open your mind and you will see."

She blinked, and looked back over her shoulder. The sea continued to roar, grey and angry, matching her emotions. She took a deep breath, calming the fury inside her, and faced the beach again only to find a large forest instead, gleaming in the sun, its leaves gilded gold. Silence surrounded her for a brief moment as she looked back to find the sea gone and then the birds began to chirp suddenly and the drone of insects whirred around her. It was magical, beautiful, yet underneath hummed a sense of the anger she'd felt.

"Where am I?" Mairen asked again, vainly searching the trees for a body to go with the voice in her head.

The shadows shifted. The trees faded into a golden haze and then disappeared altogether. White light blinded her and Mairen covered her eyes. The light went out and she lowered her hands and looked around. She stood in a wide hall, a great cavern of such beauty it took her breath away. The ceiling above her glowed brilliantly, a myriad of colors; all aspects of the rainbow seemed imbued into the panels of the roof. The floor was pristine white, yet reflected the radiance of the colors above her, sparkling beneath her feet. On the far walls hung large intricate tapestries, so realistic they looked almost like windows on a moment in time.

It was tantalizing, too beautiful for words, and yet Mairen felt uneasy. Would this too fade away into something dark and terrible?

"It could if you were to imagine it so. The world changes with your perceptions, an aspect of your body I find most intriguing," the voice replied again, but nearer this time. Mairen whirled around and found a body for the voice.

What he was she could not say at first. His height was that of the elves, but yet he was not, although his ears had a slight point. His hair hung past his waist, a shimmering white that made the silver of the Lórien elves look dull. His eyes were a deep blue, a riveting azure gaze that swept all other thoughts from her head.

"I am Oromë, Huntsmen of the Valar. You have come to a realm that none of your kind has ever seen. It is a rare privilege, Mairen of Rohan."

"Valar?" Mairen gasped. She stared at the vast hall again. "Why am I here?"

Oromë lifted a silver brow. "Why do any come to the Halls of Waiting?"

Mairen took several steps back. "Then I am dead? The merging did not work?"

Oromë's head tilted slightly. "Merging? What is there to merge, child. You are who you are. Seothlindë is no more than what Mairen is right now. You are one and the same. You know this."

Mairen folded her hands behind her back, and frowned at the tiny smile that curved the Vala's lips. "I don't understand."

"Your body lies abed in the realm of the Lady of Light; it waits for your mind to heal. It is time to go on. Mandos has decreed it and we have made it possible. And so, you go back." He lifted his hand, but paused when Mairen cried out.

"Wait!" She took a step forward and then stopped abruptly when Oromë's looked down at her with a frown. "I still don't understand," she said. "Please . . ."

"You have many questions." The woman who spoke seemed to appear out of thin air, insubstantial for a brief moment and then she seemed as real as the tall Vala next to her. She was exquisite, tall and haughty with golden hair that was coiled on her head and fell in curling tendrils over her right shoulder. She wore a gown of sheer white, simple yet elegant as it draped across her body. "I am Vana."

The woman acknowledged Mairen's bowed greeting, while Mairen wondered if she'd been lax in not greeting the first Vala as well. She straightened to find the two were staring at each other as if conversing, yet she heard nothing. They turned to her, both so regal, reminding her of the Lady of Light. "How do I come to be here if I have not died?"

"But you have."

Mairen rubbed her temple in confusion and then looked up at the Valar. "When I was Seothlindë I died."

"Indeed," Oromë said with another frown. "And it is why you are here."

Mairen sighed softly, vainly trying to understand as Vana held up her hand to keep her from speaking. "You have been brought back to the Halls of Mandos, as you are truly an elf in fëa, to regain your memory of your death as Seothlindë. It was tragic ... and unexpected," Vana reflected. "But it is important for you to remember it. Your emotions of that day are reflected here."

Mairen shuddered as the anger grew in her mind again. "You did not have a hand in my passing?" she blurted, then covered her mouth in horror at her audacity.

Vana looked startled. "Indeed no, we had great plans for you. It was a sad day."

Mairen gazed at Vana; the Vala seemed truly distressed. "But you did have some effect on my life? You must have."

Oromë's expression was not amused. "She interfered where she should not have." The tall Vala ignored Vana's haughty glare. "She indeed changed the course of your life, hoping that your path would join with another's, but we cannot control everything that happens on the mortal plane."

"Haldir did not cooperate." Vana sighed, and then smiled in amusement. "The elf exasperates even the most patient. Had he allowed his interest to grow, things might have been far different. But that is not important now."

"But why?" Mairen spread out her hands. "What did you intend for me to accomplish?"

Vana frowned, a grey shadow falling over her face. "We hoped to prevent an event foreseen, but what we hoped to be..." she shrugged, her hands falling to her sides. Oromë's disproval was tangible, radiating out from him in a definite aura.

Oromë and Vana looked at each other and then turned toward her. "What we intended for Seothlindë has been passed on to you as Mairen. Your death was a shock and we were unprepared," Vana admitted. She stepped closer, lifting a hand to brush the hair from Mairen's face. "But we chose well. Your strength of heart and determination gave us new hope. You will remember this moment now." The Vala swept out her hand and Mairen felt the image of her death slam into her head.

The Valar had brought her here, to this very hall, weeping at their feet. She had knelt, battered and in agonizing pain, but it did not matter. She was dying yet she had struggled to hold on to the whisper of life still within her body. She begged them to let her go back, to wake alive even if injured terribly. They refused. It was too late. She'd wept, fraught with an overwhelming horror that she was leaving something undone, something so important she'd do anything to go back.

The Valar had refused. But then Vana had paused, her eyes distant as she grew silent. She had turned to Oromë, their conversation silent but heated as Seothlindë watched them with a growing sense of hope. The Valar turned back to her, Oromë's expression full of reluctance, but Vana had smiled. She offered another alternative, one of great difficulty. They could send her back, but in her new life she would not be an elf, but a mortal. She would have to learn from her past, a past that would be hidden from her deep within her mind. She would have to become more than what she had been. Her fate and the one who had been tied to her would be in her hands once again. If... she succeeded.

Mairen found herself on her knees, shaking with the memory of her anger and desperation.

"I begged to go back? And you allowed it, in a way that was never done before, why?"

Oromë sighed deeply. "You were sent back to learn from what you had been, and to fulfill the destiny to which your soul was linked. We hoped in the body of a mortal, you would understand truly the wealth that the mortal races give to the lands of Arda, and rejoice in their being. Your purpose relied on your acceptance of others. Had you not learned to have such an open and honest heart, then you would have never have come to Haldir's aid. Many men do not concern themselves with the elves, nor other races, and would have left him to die."

Vana knelt next to Mairen as she curled over her knees, elated yet disheartened. "I did what you wanted, then. What you foresaw. I saved Haldir from death, and he needs me no more."

Vana gripped Mairen's chin, forcing her to meet the Vala's gaze. "That is not true, Mairen. You saved the elf and more. It is up to you to decide what you will do now."

"You are sending me back?"

Vana smiled, resting a white hand on Mairen's shoulder. "You never left, Mairen. Only your mind is now free. You are one. Live fully and with fervor. We will meet again some day."

Mairen straightened but the light grew brilliant, hurting her eyes, and she had to cover them with her arm. When she pulled her arm away she found a pair of silver eyes staring at her instead.

"Mairen?" Haldir whispered, kneeling beside her on the bed.

Orophin handed his long bow to another elf as they passed under the tall gates to the city. The elf bowed, touching his heart, but Orophin barely noticed, loping quickly down the wide path into the depths of the city. He'd been gone too long. Something was not right. He could feel it deep inside.

He had to find Haldir.

He leaped up the stairs two at a time, heading for his brother's talan near the pinnacle of the city. He had gained several levels when he spied Rúmil leaning on a railing overlooking the city. He headed over to speak with him.

"What has happened?" Orophin searched Rúmil's face with concern.

Rúmil glanced up toward the higher talans and sighed. "Mairen lies abed. It has finally taken place."

Orophin stepped back, running a hand over his face. "Haldir is involved. Is he worried?" He lifted a brow when Rúmil's lip curved up in a small smile.

"Worried? Orophin, he is nearly incoherent. He blames himself."

Orophin reached out, gripping Rúmil's arm tightly. "Blames himself? Why? He knew she would have to go through this."

"He didn't expect to be the trigger, Ori."

Orophin scratched his head. "Rúmil, I have just returned from three weeks on the border. I have no idea what you mean."

"Lammas, brother. You know what often happens at the festival." Rúmil smiled slightly. "She and he were together, and the next morning Haldir found her nearly unconscious and in terrible pain."

"Did she know it would happen?" Orophin asked with a frown.

Rúmil returned his stare. "Haldir said she mentioned it. And he feels he pushed her into it."

Orophin smiled. "If I have learned anything about the Rohirran, it is that she is not pushed into anything easily."

Rúmil nodded, but his gaze remained troubled. "I doubt she realized what the magical effects of the Lammas festival could really do. It concerns Haldir, and he has sat at her side for days now. I fear what he will do if she does not . . . pull through."

Orophin settled next to Rúmil, leaning on the railing. "I have felt his despair and more. Something comes and I fear what it means, Rúmil."

Mairen blinked several times, and then reached up to touch Haldir's cheek as he leaned over her.

"You look tired," she whispered.

Haldir stared at her for a moment, and then sat down on the edge of the bed with a gruff laugh and ran his hand over her hair. "Indeed?"

Mairen shifted, with effort rising up on her elbow to gaze at him. "I am sorry if I worried you. How long has it been?"

Haldir wanted to say too long, but he checked the words, instead rose to cross to a table to bring back a small glass of water. He helped her drink and then pushed her back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. "A full week and for the last three days I thought you near death."

Mairen eyes were rimmed with dark circles. "I could have been. But I was given a choice."

Haldir sat on the edge of the bed again, studying her. "A choice, Mairen?"

She ran a hand over her eyes, rubbing her temple, a habit she'd begun long ago. He hoped she was not in pain. "Not now, but the last time I was there."

Haldir leaned closer, pulling her hand from her temple to stroke his fingers across her brow. "There? When you were Seothlindë?" He could feel her pulse, throbbing beneath his fingers, reassuring him he wasn't dreaming. She was really awake and alive. She reached up to grasp his fingers, pulling them from her head.

"I was in the Halls of Mandos. The Valar allowed me to remember. I had begged them to let me go back, no matter how. And so they did, but in a mortal body, and they took away the memory of my past. I grew up believing I was only a Rohirrim child, yet . . ." She seemed at a loss for words. "But somehow as I grew older, I had that same feeling I had something important to do. Do you remember when I told you about my life?"

Haldir smiled. They had talked of it when she had first arrived, hoping to find some clues to her visions. He nodded, and her lips curved in response, but her eyes seemed far away, lost in her memory.

"I was determined that my brothers would include me. I would be a part of them, and equal. They wouldn't leave me out . . . or alone. I think part of that was because of how lonely I was as Seothlindë. I had rejected the other children, and as a result I was alone. I didn't want to be that way again." She closed her eyes tightly; squeezing the fingers she still held unconsciously. "So much of who I am was because of who Seothlindë was . . . and was not."

She opened her eyes, and they shimmered as she blinked rapidly. "Did it make a difference, Haldir? I know it did because I was there when you needed me. It was what they hoped for."

Haldir pulled his fingers from her grip, wiping a tear that rolled slowly down her cheek. "Then why do you cry, Mairen?"

She reached up to wipe away another tear but he caught her hand, trapping it in his. Her eyes seemed haunted as she slowly lifted her gaze to his. It gave him a chill, deep inside his heart.He lifted her hand to his lips, feeling her tremble. "What is so terrible that you look at me so?"

Her fingers were cool in his hand. "I am afraid of what I now know, Haldir. I cry because I have to make decisions I do not want to, and what I must choose to do. I am afraid of what my people will think. Will they accept me? Will Eomer allow me to rejoin my brothers or will I be an outcast?"

Haldir frowned. "If they do not, then you must choose another path. You can remain here, perhaps?"

She frowned, and her eyes shimmered again. "But I do not belong here either. I am not an elf."

"Not in physical form, but your soul is."

She pulled her fingers from his hand. "I feel like there is something I am missing. An important piece I have not yet remembered. The Valar do not control everything. We were connected, you and I, so that I could help you. I did that."

Haldir lifted a dark brow. "So you think that ends our tie?"

She looked away. He could see her jaw clench. Did she truly believe that? He caught her chin, gently pulling her to look at him. She was growing tired, her face pale again. "I do not believe our path ends now, Mairen. Do you think I would have loved you that night as I did?"

She blushed and pulled away, her lips trembling. "I fear I do not remember much, Haldir."

He cursed the Valar under his breath. "So they have taken the memory from you. I do not know why. But we are as one, no matter that you do not remember. I can remind you." He bent forward but she lifted her hand to his lips, holding him back gently. She took a deep breath, and then pushed against his chest, her hands splayed across the tense muscles.

"I must go back to Rohan, Haldir."

The chill deepened inside his heart. He'd sensed her reserve, anticipating her decision. But he was certain she would return. He would wait. "You will go if you must."

She searched his face, her eyes growing moist again. "I don't know how long."

He smiled wryly. "For an elf, time is inconsequential. You will learn that soon."

She closed her eyes with a tired sigh, but then gazed at him sadly. "I cannot imagine. I don't expect you to wait. I can't be sure what will happen."

He wanted to gather her into his arms, caress away the fear and pain that darkened her eyes still. But he felt her hesitation. He understood she was still searching. Soon she would realize she belonged with him. She sank back against the pillow, clearly too weary to speak further, and closed her eyes. In a moment she relaxed in sleep.

Haldir leaned over her and kissed her cheek. "I will feel the same, Mairen. Do not doubt that I will wait."

Orophin and Rúmil reached Mairen's talan just as Haldir opened the door. Rúmil waited as Haldir closed it quietly behind him.

"She has awakened?" Rúmil asked softly.

"Aye and now sleeps." Haldir rubbed his chin wearily. "She needs more rest."

"Is she well?" Orophin looked into Haldir's silver eyes, noting they were calm, yet he could still sense something beneath the composure, something Haldir was adept at hiding. He was afraid. What had Mairen said to him? Orophin moved aside and the three began to walk along the wooden path among the trees.

"She seems well enough," Haldir stated. Rúmil glanced past the warden, meeting Orophin's troubled gaze with his own. Haldir stopped and turned to Orophin. "You are concerned about something. I can feel it."

Orophin folded his hands behind his back, considering the nagging feelings that had plagued him for days. He had thought perhaps it was Mairen that had brought the sensations, but the niggling doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. If anything, it was stronger than before.

He glanced at Haldir, knowing his brother was far too perceptive of any of his warden's emotions to pass off his concerns as nothing. He drew in a sigh, exhaling in a rush of words. "I've had a terrible uneasiness of late, Haldir. Something is going to happen and it won't be good."

Haldir said nothing for a moment, only arched one brow slightly. Orophin knew Haldir never doubted his sense of intuition. "You do not think it had to do with Mairen?"

Orophin bit his lip, sorting the feelings in his heart. "No. I thought perhaps that it was, especially when Rúmil told me she lay abed and was near death. But she has awakened and the uneasiness persists, stronger than ever. I do not know what it means. It confounds me. I have not felt this much concern in a long while."

Haldir's chin rose as he gazed at Orophin. "Does it relate to me? Is it like how you felt before Helm's Deep?"

Orophin closed his eyes. Was it? No, he was sure it was not because of any battle. It centered on Haldir, but was more personal and tied to them as well. The fogginess of the feeling frustrated him. Whatever it was, Haldir would face it as he always did, warning or no. Courageous to a fault, his brother would face death if he felt honor demanded it. He would do the same. It was just the way they were.

Orophin shrugged his shoulders. "It is most frustrating, Haldir. I cannot pin down just what I should be concerned about. That's why I thought at first it was about Mairen, with her being Rohirrim. But I know now it's not."

"Perhaps you need to seek out the Lady. She might be able to give you some insight," Rúmil suggested. "She can guide you and help you find your answers."

Orophin nodded distractedly. "Perhaps. But I can't help but feel this may change us all."

Mairen slid her feet to the floor, testing her weight, and then stood, arching her neck to ease the stiffness in her spine and back. She'd lain abed far too long. A week since she awoke and she had finally gotten permission from Celeborn to rise. She clenched her fist, staring at the slim fingers of her hand. Empty for too long, it was high time she returned to what she was, a warrior. She crossed the room slowly, her legs tingling from disuse, and sat on the edge of the window sill, pulling aside the delicate silk that fluttered beside her head. The leaves outside her window rustled in the soft breeze, their golden textures catching the light and reflecting it onto the wall beside her. Below her the walkways teemed with elves, elegant and refined, gliding to where ever they going with such grace that it made her sigh with delight. Was she like that? Did she carry any of the inherent gracefulness the elves embodied, or was it lost amid her mortal body, the bulkier Rohirrim bloodline that she now was? She sighed, knowing it was only one of hundreds of questions crowding her mind.

She shifted, leaning out the window to feel the smooth leaf of one of the Mallorn; it was soft, yet strong, resisting her touch to spring back to the branch that held it. Had she resisted her own roots? How to meld all the thoughts and knowledge that lay inside her head, how best to use what she now knew? She must find the answers, but aside from that, she had to face what she had been avoiding.

She loved Haldir, far more than Seothlindë had, although perhaps with equal passion. Yet in contrast to Seothlindë's determined set of mind, Mairen didn't know if she was meant to be at Haldir's side. He had revealed his heart, and she knew that was rare for him. How had it all become so muddled? Would he truly wait, and was it fair for her to ask him to? She felt the weight of these thoughts pull at her heart. She had to go back. Her life as it was waited for her. She couldn't just leave her brothers behind. With the knowledge she now remembered she could help her people. She had to return to what she knew best. It was her duty; she was a Rohan Shield Maiden more than anything else. How could she forget that?

She closed her eyes. Could she bear to know that she might hurt him? Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and heaved a deep sigh. It was all so frustrating. She was not going to muddle over it any longer. The time for such worrying was over and what would be would be. If she was meant to be with Haldir, then the Valar would make it so. They might deny their interventions, but Mairen had a sense they were more involved than what they had revealed. She slid away from the window and walked to the tall wardrobe, throwing open the carved wooden doors to stare at the few garments that hung there. With a smile, she drew out her tunic. She was going home.

Orophin drew the tall roan from the stall, his gaze not on the horse but rather on the stall further down the stables and the Rohirran warrior that stood there in silence.

"She has missed you."

Mairen pulled her gaze from Epona; the horse was pointedly ignoring her. "Really? She doesn't seem to care that I am here." Mairen smiled, knowing Epona too well. "She is paying me back for not visiting enough." She reached over the stall to caress the sturdy Rohirrim mare. "Epona, I would have come if I could, you know this."

The horse answered by stepping away from the stall door, effectively distancing herself from Mairen's touch.

Mairen sighed, and chuckled softly. "I suppose I could borrow one of the Galadhrim mares. I am sure they would be most happy with the exercise."

Epona shook her head with a snort and the roan's brown eye blinked at Mairen. She smiled mischievously and turned toward Orophin.

"I think I will need another mount," Mairen said, and then ducked quickly as Epona swung her head, her nostrils flaring with outrage.

"Oh, didn't like that eh?" Mairen laughed, catching Epona's mane as the horse leaned over the stall door, the horse's hot breath warming her cheek.

Epona jerked away, but then gently rubbed her head against Mairen's shoulder. "I was only joking, you know." Mairen rubbed the horse's silky nose. "I would not dare replace you with any other, dear Epona. We are going home."

Epona whinnied loudly. Mairen stared, lifting a thin brow. "But I thought you would be ready to leave. Don't you miss the plain?"

The horse shook her head again. Mairen narrowed her eyes, hearing Orophin chuckle as he saddled his horse. She opened the stall door, moving to Epona's side. "We must go back, Epona," she whispered softly and wrapped her arms around the tall roan's neck.

"Epona seems to think you should stay."

Mairen stiffened; Haldir's voice sent both ice and flame along her nerves. "She must like her accommodations. I would think the stables of the Rohirrim could not be surpassed by any, but perhaps I was wrong."

Haldir leaned on the stall door, clad in his warden's tunic. Fully armed, he was at his most imposing. "Perhaps she knows more than you think," he said.

Mairen's heart thumped madly. The night they had lain together was only a fuzzy memory, a fact she found highly frustrating. She knew they'd been together, yet she could hardly recall it at all. Was this an effect of the magic of that night or did it have to do with her merging? She did not know. And yet perhaps it was best that she did not remember, for she could not miss or yearn for what she couldn't recall. She gently slid on Epona's bridle, using the action to give her more time to respond to Haldir's statement. "She is only a horse," she said at last.

Epona snorted, tossing her head and jerking the bridle from Mairen's hands. She grabbed the leather straps with a sheepish grin and patted the horse's neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, Epona." When she turned to face Haldir, Epona rested her head on Mairen's shoulder. "Whatever Epona thinks she knows matters not. She will rejoice once she feels the wind in her mane once again."

Haldir stepped back. Shadows played over his face, the sunlight streaming in through the glass panels of the stable roof to light his gray eyes, making them glitter. He opened the stall, allowing Mairen to lead Epona out of the box. "Will you forget the wood as soon as you remember the feel of the wind?"

Mairen ducked under Epona's neck to face Haldir. "I will not forget the wood, Haldir. How can you think that?"

Haldir moved closer, lifting his hand to brush a gentle touch along her jaw. "I don't know what to think when it comes to you, Mairen." He settled his fingers on her lips, making her tremble. "I can only hope you do not forget me so easily."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Forget him? Imposing as he was, she had seen a softer side of him. "I will not forget you, as you well know. Do not make this harder than it is, Haldir."

The March Warden's brow arched slightly. "Why not, dear Mairen? I would hope that I could change your mind."

Mairen pulled back. "You know you cannot."

Haldir dropped his hand, his face becoming inscrutable. "Indeed."

He stepped away, allowing Mairen to draw Epona out into the stable yard, followed by Orophin with two horses. Mairen gathered the reins, and felt Haldir's strong hands at her waist as he assisted her onto the tall roan. She settled into the saddle, watching as he leaped effortlessly onto a Galadhrim mount, a beautiful pale horse of light tan, with a mane that hung past the horse's chest.

Orophin gripped her knee, his blue eyes troubled. "I have told Haldir, but I would tell you as well. I have a bad feeling that something is going to happen. You must take care."

Mairen felt her eyes widen as a chill swept down her spine. "Does it concern Haldir?"

Orophin glanced over his shoulder at his brother, who watched them patiently. "I do not know, Mairen. It eludes me, but I know it comes soon." The elf patted her knee with a last look and easily mounted his horse. Although the Galadhrim rarely rode, the elves seemed as comfortable in the saddle as any Rohirrim, raised and bred among the wild stallions of the plain. Mairen admired their form as the two rode ahead of her, their silver hair glittering in the dusky light of the forest. She urged Epona forward, followed by several more elves, into the city.

The trees shadowed the path, and alongside her elves appeared, watching her as she rode silently behind Haldir. He greeted the few who stepped forward, and she knew they were curious about her. How much had Galadriel told her people? Mairen had often wondered. She had not had much time to socialize among the inhabitants of the Golden Wood; the Lammas festival had been the first time she had been able to really mingle among the elves. It brought to mind the two male elves who had last delayed her, reminding her of the one elf who had seemed so familiar.

As if her thoughts had a magical effect, he appeared alongside the path, stepping forward to speak to Haldir. Mairen studied him, sorting through the multitude of memories inside her head. She leaned back in surprise when he turned toward her. Elweth. How could she have forgotten? Behind him Loriel stepped forward, but Elweth moved past Haldir to pause at her knee.

"Greetings, Mairen." he bowed his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her hand as Mairen leaned forward.

"Elweth, I remember who you are."

The elf started slightly, his face growing pale. "Indeed?"

Mairen frowned as he lifted his gaze to her. "Aye, and I must apologize."

Elweth dropped her hand and stepped back. His grey eyes were guarded, his expression carefully controlled. "Apologize, for what? I came to do the same; my actions during the festival were unkind."

Mairen leaned forward to rest her arm on her knee. "I do not mean I remember you from Lammas, but from a day long past. It is that which I apologize. I used you unkindly and would ask your forgiveness for playing so cruelly with your heart."

Elweth's eyes widened. "Then you are not now what you were then."

Mairen sat up, noting Haldir had turned to glance at them. "I would hope not." She sighed, rubbing her temple, a habit she had yet to break from her illness. "I can only trust that I can make it up to you someday."

Elweth's lips curved in an ironic smile. "I would not have heard Seothlindë speak so gently. It eases my heart to accept your apology although none is needed. I chose my path and continued on it for far too long."

"I hope that you can only forgive me for not being honest with you." Mairen leaned closer, Elweth was as handsome as any elf, and she had truly enjoyed his company, although as Seothlindë she never intended to culminate their relationship as he'd wanted. But there was nothing she could do to change the past. She sighed and gave Elweth a nod as Haldir turned around in his saddle. Was she imagining it or did Haldir seem suddenly wary as his glance slid over Elweth. She shrugged it off as just the light and gathered Epona's reins to continue.

Elweth gazed at her for a long moment, as if coming to some decision and then he grasped Epona's bridle as she began to move aside. "Would you wait before you pass through the final gate of the city? I must return to my forge, but have something that I would give to you."

Mairen tilted her head. "I will do as you ask, but I do deserve naught from you."

Elweth stepped back as Loriel moved to his side, greeting Mairen with a wide grin. "I disagree. You will wait?"

Mairen nodded, kicking Epona forward to follow Haldir. "I will wait."

The gate was drawn open but Mairen dismounted alongside Haldir. He handed the reins of his horse to Orophin and then led Mairen around the horses to a shallow walkway raised above the path. Two tall statues graced the platform, stone effigies of past elves, guarding the way into Caras Galadhon. Beside the statues stood Lord Celeborn, who nodded regally in acknowledgement of Haldir and Mairen's bowed greetings.

"You leave us far too soon for my liking, Mairen."

Mairen accepted the strong hand the elven lord held out to her. "I am sorry, my lord. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your aid."

Celeborn patted her hand gently. "I wish we could ease the thoughts that now plague you, but you must find your own way. I can only hope that you will return, and not forget our realm." The elven lord's gaze flickered toward Haldir, and then his blue eyes returned to Mairen.

The choking sadness that enveloped her chest made it hard to breathe and tears threatened to overflow as she blinked quickly. How could they think she could forget any of them? Mairen stepped forward to embrace the regal elf in a tight hug, ignoring his sudden stiffness as she did so. He had helped her immensely and if all she could do to express her thanks was a simple hug, he would have to accept it. Celeborn chuckled softly, drawing her away from him after a moment's hesitation.

"Only you as a mortal would show such emotion." He smiled. "You are always welcome here, no matter the length of time you stay away, Mairen. Do not hesitate to return or send word if you have need of us."

Mairen nodded, moved by his generosity. "Thank you, Lord Celeborn. You have been too kind."

The elven lord turned to Haldir. "You will take the necessary precautions? We have spoken with Orophin, yet the path remains dark. Galadriel cannot discern what it is that awaits you."

Haldir touched his forehead. "Of course, I will take care."

Celeborn frowned slightly. "I fear the world still bears us ill will. There are many who still follow the path of darkness." He turned to Mairen again. "You still carry the stone. Haldir and I retain the link to your mind. You will find it easier, I think, to use it now."

Mairen felt the stone in her pouch with some surprise. She had nearly forgotten it, had it only been months since she had used it to contact Haldir? "I will keep it close." She turned as Elweth appeared carrying a long package, followed by Loriel leading her horse. Mairen smiled at the sight of Loriel's stubborn expression and Haldir's resigned sigh. Loriel had obviously not been put off when Haldir did not include her in the warden's he had chosen for the journey. But she was glad the elleth was going along; she found Loriel had become a close friend.

Elweth bowed to Lord Celeborn and then sent a wary glance at Haldir. Mairen stepped down beside him.

"I would have you take this." Elweth said, holding out his hands. "It was meant for you long ago."

Mairen accepted the gift gingerly, aware of how Seothlindë had toyed with him. "I can't take this, Elweth. I have no right."

Elweth wrapped his fingers over hers, forcing her to cradle the package against her chest. "I will not take it back. I made it for you, and you deserve it more now than you did long ago."

Mairen felt Haldir's presence behind her and wondered what he must be thinking. Did he know how close she'd been with Elweth? She gripped the silk covering and met Loriel's gaze from where she stood behind Elweth. A sly wink greeted her and Mairen smiled back. She would not hurt Elweth and to refuse his gift would certainly do so.

"Thank you then, Elweth, although I still do not think I am worthy of this." She took a deep breath and unwrapped the covering that encased the gift. Haldir's hand settled on her shoulder as she slid off the silk and gasped at the artwork that lay in her hands. All Lórien blades were similar, long handled curved steel swords with hilts carved from the heart of a Mallorn. She gazed at the sword. It was not light, yet it balanced perfectly in her outstretched hand. The hilt, long enough to be held with both hands was smooth and glossy, hours of care had gone into the shaping and embellishments. The blade itself sparkled, honed to a razor edge it cut through the air without resistance. A deadly weapon and one that seemed indeed made for her.

"Elweth, this is beautiful. I cannot accept it."

"He made it for you, Mairen." Haldir spoke from behind her, his hand heavy on her shoulder. So he knew?

Elweth's eyes narrowed as he met the March Warden's gaze. "Indeed. I made it for Seothlindë long ago."

She felt Haldir stiffen slightly, the hand tightened imperceptibly on her shoulder. "Seothlindë is no more, only Mairen remains. But the sword fits her well."

Elweth's lips curved slightly. "Ah, but that is not true. Seothlindë lives on inside of the mortal."

Haldir stepped past Mairen to confront the smith, the March Warden nearly oozing with arrogance. "I caution you on your next words, Elweth."

The smith bowed his head, but the smile remained fixed on his lips, his eyes glittering stubbornly. "Indeed? Should I fear you, Haldir? You cannot deny that Mairen has qualities of the elf Seothlindë; it is what drew you to her. Her elvish qualities were apparent to you and the Lady from the start, but you did not understand why. I knew who she was. I saw the sign you have not seen. Do you grow concerned, March Warden, that I might awaken the feelings she might have had for me again? You have set your sights on her, yet she leaves the lands of the elves to return to the mortal world. It seems your hold on her is less strong than you would like."

Mairen gasped, horrified at the smith's audacity. Haldir's hand dropped to the sword at his hip, but otherwise he stood unmoving. "The lady returns to her family. Do not mistake her leaving as one of flight, Elweth. My claim is made. Do not speak words you will regret."

Mairen snorted. She stepped forward, but Haldir flung out his arm, blocking her path. She ignored it and ducked underneath quickly. "Stop this. Neither Haldir nor any other can lay claim to me. I am Rohirrim, not Lothlórien." She turned to Haldir as he wrapped an arm around her waist, jerking her back against him. Mairen splayed her hands against his chest in an effort to hold him off, but he ignored her, his voice clipped and icy as he continued to speak.

"Mairen is mine; I speak for all to hear. None shall gainsay me, for it is also the will of the Valar. All know now that the woman Mairen was once the elf Seothlindë. Elf or mortal, she is tied to me and none other." Haldir's face was a mask, his eyes shards of ice. Elweth scowled.

Haldir's arm could have been steel he held her so tightly. Mairen pushed ineffectively against his chest. Elweth had taken a step back at Haldir's words. She wriggled against the arm, and finally at a last resort, stomped hard on Haldir's foot. He was stoic enough to hide what pain he must have felt but his grip loosened for a moment and she broke free, stepping in between the two elves with a furious glare at both.

"I am not a package to be bartered over, or argued about. I am going home, where I belong." She whirled toward Haldir. His jaw was set, the silver eyes dark and brooding, and she felt a warning flicker in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away, disconcerted with both of their words. "I belong to no one, Haldir." She glanced over her shoulder at Elweth; the smith was frowning but his eyes met hers evenly. "No one." She turned and bowed to Lord Celeborn who had watched the whole event silently, taking in the slight twitch that curved his lips. "Farewell, my lord. I will leave your wardens at the border."

Celeborn nodded faintly and then she was jerked around. Haldir gripped her arm, pulling her toward Epona and nearly throwing her onto the horse. "You will leave no one at the border. We will ride with you until we meet either a Rohirrim patrol or arrive at the city of Edoras itself."

Mairen regained her seat, startled by the display of temper in the usually controlled elf. A dark look silenced her objection and then he was leaping gracefully onto his horse and she had only a moment to tuck the Lórien blade behind her saddle before they surged forward, the horses eager to be off.

Several hours later she was still trying to ignore Haldir. The set of his shoulders informed her that he was still angry. Orophin rode behind her, whistling softly, and she turned around to glare at him. She received only an impish smile in return. She turned back to face Haldir's rigid back and sighed in frustration. Why did it always come down to things like this? Was Haldir jealous of Elweth's generous gift? Was it because of the blade itself, or because Elweth had wrought it because of his love for her?

Haldir had not wanted her when she was Seothlindë so why did he seem so upset now? Did he worry that Elweth might have a chance to woo her as he had not before? Mairen wanted to laugh, for it all seemed so unimportant. Then she sobered. It was important. It all tied in to where she belonged. She shook her head, eyeing the stiff elf ahead of her, while behind her, Orophin's persistent whistling was growing annoying. At last she turned around to glare. He shrugged and stopped whistling and she returned to face Haldir's stiff back.

She glanced over her head at the golden leaves that shimmered softly in the light, and felt a wave of sadness sweep over her. How long might it be before she returned to the Golden Wood, if ever? Would she find welcome after all this? Would Haldir welcome her? She studied the elf, her eyes drinking in the broad shoulders and silver hair as it rested against his back. He was everything a woman could want, yet she had to let him go. She closed her eyes for a moment in despair. Was she strong enough?

Orophin brushed past her suddenly, moving to ride beside Haldir. They spoke softly, an undertone of concern lacing their voices as she watched. Orophin sighed and then looked back at Mairen with a frown. "Be on guard. Whatever is to befall you draws nigh."

Haldir dismounted when they reached the border of Lórien, speaking quickly with the patrol guard there. He turned to Mairen, grasping Epona's bridle tightly. "We will spend the night on the border here. I will not travel after dark in the lands of the Rohirrim. There are guard flets where you can rest."

Mairen frowned. "There are several more hours of daylight. I can see well enough in the dark and I know you do too. I don't want to stop." She took a deep breath as Haldir's lips tightened to a thin line, his eyes becoming a dull gray, hard and unmoving. She shrugged and slid off Epona with a curt, "Fine, we stop." She patted the horse as Epona whickered, and then allowed one of the other elves to take the roan. She followed Haldir into the trees, and then waited for a moment as a ladder dropped down from above. In a few moments she was once more amid the branches of the Mellryn, and surprisingly, alone with Haldir.

"Where did Orophin go? And the others? I would like to speak with Loriel."

Haldir drew a tall screen along the edge of the flet, blocking a chill wind that ruffled the strands of hair along her cheek. "They will find other accommodations."

Mairen felt her fingers twitch nervously. She'd not been alone with Haldir since the festival, not awake and on her feet. "That's really not necessary. There is plenty of room here for Orophin and Loriel."

Ignoring her, Haldir went to a small chest near the trunk of the tree and opened it, withdrawing several goblets and a flask of wine. He pulled out a thin blanket and glanced up as she continued to look at him. "We have some things to discuss before you leave Lórien."

Mairen crossed her arms over her chest. "We've said all there is to say, Haldir."

He rose, dropping the blanket so that it fell back into the chest. In two steps he was in front of her, imposing, intent upon her in a way she'd nearly forgotten. A wisp of memory nagged inside her head, and she slid her gaze to the lips that were set in such a tight, hard line. He was still angry with her.

"Why are you disturbed, Haldir? We have spoken of this before. I must go home."

His answer was a strong hand gripping her chin. "And I will lead you there. But you deny what your heart feels. Why? Do you find my attentions so unwelcome that you would disgrace me in front of my people?"

Startled, she tried to pull back, jerking her chin from his hands. "I did not do that! I only stated I am my own person. I will decide my fate. Not you, nor any other."

Haldir's arm slid around her waist, pulling her roughly against him. "You pledged your love to me the night of Lammas. Was I only a tool that you used to accomplish what you knew must occur? Have you played me as you once played with Elweth?"

She gasped in outrage. "How can you think such a thing? I did not use you!"

Haldir's hand pressed against her back, forcing her to mold against him. She fought against the fire building in the pit of her stomach, fought against the sensations of his thighs against hers, his hips molded to her."Tell me then, Mairen, what it was you felt that night? Have the Valar truly stolen it from you? Or do you lie about that? Do you not remember what you felt?"

She was drowning in sensation, the feel of his body washing away her retort, the stark questions in his eyes wiping away her anger. A fragment of memory brushed her mind of a heady kiss that had made her knees weak.

She struggled to gain control of her thoughts; the heated recollection had ignited a response deep inside her heart and her body. But she pushed it away as she pushed against the rock that was Haldir, trying to ignore the smoldering gaze that pinned her own. "I wanted what you did that night," she insisted breathlessly. "And I gave myself willingly."

Haldir's sword bumped her hip, reminding her he was still fully armed, as was she. What _had _she wanted, what did she still want? She closed her eyes, knowing it would only lead to heartache. She could not accept that her role was here. No, she had a duty to Rohan. Her life was there, not here as an elf. She drew back, quenching the fire that burned in her heart, refusing to yield to it. Perhaps it was better this way, if he thought she'd used him. He could forget her, and she could then return to her old life, knowing he was free of her. Haldir's fingers raked through her hair, pulling it out of her braid. She struggled to free herself, and backed away as he loosened his hold on her waist.

He tossed the hair tie over his shoulder, his jaw tense, his eyes drilling through her. He would not force her, nor hurt her; she knew it as well as she knew her name. He had far more subtle ways of getting what he wanted. But she couldn't succumb to his seductions. What was only a dim memory, feelings so muted she could hardly recall what they felt like, must remain that way. She could not leave him if she were to lie with him again. She could not.

He stalked toward her and Mairen back up several steps to bump into the screen on the edge of the flet.

"Haldir, do not come closer."

"You said you loved me, Mairen."

She wanted to weep, knowing she would hurt him. "I know I did."

He stopped and clenched his fists. "Did?"

She could not deny the truth. "Yes, I did love you."

Suddenly, he seemed made of stone. "And now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's not a good answer."

Mairen bit her lip; for his sake, she had to go on. "My feelings that night were laid before you. But I don't know what I will feel today or tomorrow. Too many things lie before me. The Valar have taken the memory of our night and I do not know why. You must forget me, Haldir. I am going to return to Edoras and I do not plan to return soon, if ever."

"Why?"

She could not gaze into the silver eyes, knowing what she was throwing away. "I am Rohirran. I am not an elf. I will not live forever, Haldir. Go back to your people, and leave me to mine."

She felt him stiffen, heard a tiny intake of breath. "You don't believe that. Not after all this. You did not go through all this pain to remain mortal."

She wanted only to curl up and die. "Believe what you will, but I am no more elf now than I was a year ago. My task is over. You will need me no more."

She watched his face grow pale, his expression cold and unyielding, the warrior elf she had first seen. The one she had instantly fallen in love with. He gave her one last look and then spun on his heel, disappearing so silently into the branches of the tree it seemed almost like he'd never been there.

But he had, her heart knew it. Mairen sank to the platform dully. What had she done?

They reached the borders of Rohan with little to note; the rocky plain stretched out as far as she could see, rimmed in the distance by the mountains, the city of her King hidden by the far rolling hills and valleys. She was nearly home, and felt like crying. Haldir stood holding his horse, the wind whipping his silver hair around his face, and he absently pulled it aside as he spoke quietly with Orophin. Loriel appeared and crouched down next to her.

"The plains are windswept as always. I do not see how you can love this land as you do. It is barren and cold."

Mairen glanced at the slim elleth with a wry smile. "Barren? Nay, Loriel. Much life lives among the rocks and crags of my land. As you love the mellyrn, I love the grassy plain. It is the land of my birth and part of my blood."

Loriel stood slowly, her blue eyes trained on the far horizon, her hand resting on the elvish dagger strapped to her hip. "Nay, it is the land of your birth, Mairen, not of your blood." She turned as Mairen rose. "You deny what lies inside your heart in hopes to ease the pain for you both. It will not work. Your harsh words to Haldir will only serve to haunt you. Do not leave him, Mairen, with such words between you."

Mairen stared at the waving grasses, undulating in the wind. "I cannot, Loriel. He must go on without me, as I must go on without him."

"You are a fool. You give away what few have even dreamed of."

Mairen turned to Loriel. "I must do what I feel is right. Someday perhaps I will regret it, but for now it seems my only choice."

Loriel shook her head sadly. "He loves you like no other. It will be many years before he looks upon another, if ever. He is not one to love, Mairen. I thought I told you this."

Mairen felt the strain of keeping her expression neutral grow almost impossible. "I never meant to hurt him, Loriel. Things have changed. You must understand."

The elleth shrugged elegantly, brushing aside her long silver hair. "I do not understand, nor does he. But as much as you deny it, you are an elf. It is evident in the sheen of your hair and the grace with which you move. More so now that you have melded into one, Mairen. Your life as you knew it is over, and now you throw away another without clear thought. Again I say do not leave with such anger between you and Haldir."

Mairen reached out, but Loriel moved away, toward her horse. In the next instant, Haldir approached with Orophin and they were soon mounted, riding once more into the rocky plains of Rohan.

Orophin's sense of foreboding had grown overpowering the previous night, and Haldir's expression—or lack of it—told him much. He now knew that Haldir's peril would not come from an arrow or sword, but from one far sharper and more agonizing. Mairen. What had she said to him? Their words had been private, but finding Haldir sitting at the base of the mallorn the next morning boded ill for the two. And Orophin's head swam with the harsh clang of forewarning. But what could he do?

Today the feeling had returned and Orophin reeled in his saddle. What more would his brother face? He glanced at Mairen, noting her stiffness. He would have to speak to her, try to understand what she had done.

He dismounted as Haldir halted, sliding off the tall horse. Mairen frowned, gathering Epona's reins tightly.

"Why do we stop? There is nothing here."

Haldir sent her a brief glance and stalked away while Orophin drew his horse close to hers. "We are near the place where Haldir was ambushed. He wishes to pay his respect to the elves he lost."

Mairen's face flushed red. "Forgive me, I had forgotten. Of course."

Orophin stepped back so she could dismount, noting the way she watched Haldir closely. He reached out and touched her shoulder, drawing her attention. "What have you done?"

She dragged her gaze away from Haldir. "I've done what I had to do, Orophin. He has to forget me."

Orophin wanted to shake her. "Why? Do you realize what you do?"

She glanced away, plucking at Epona's saddle. "I know I've hurt him. But I can't help it, Orophin. I don't want to, but I have to go home."

Orophin glanced at Haldir; his brother was striding rapidly through the grass and nearly out of sight. "Go home, yes, but not forever." He tightened his grip on her shoulder as she tried to turn away. "Have you not understood what you have become? You are no longer a mortal, Mairen. You can deny it, but the signs grow more obvious every day. You are an elf, Mairen, and that makes you immortal. You can return to Rohan. You can stay there for years and watch your brothers live with families of their own. And what will you do? Will you marry one of the Rohan only to watch him grow old and die while you remain ever young?"

Mairen twisted out of his grip, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "No, I won't do that. I will never marry."

"Why?" he persisted.

"Because there could never be anyone else but Haldir," she snapped, and then gasped as though she had shocked herself with her words. Orophin tamped down his anger, but did not release her.

"So you do love him," he stated.

"Of course I love him. But I have a duty to my own people, no matter that you say I am an elf. I am also from Rohan, with responsibility to them."

Orophin let go and stepped back. "You consider that more important?"

Mairen drew away and turned toward Epona, resting her forehead against the horse's neck. "I can help them, Orophin. With what I know now, with the skills I have. I can be much more than I was. How can I not aid them? What I want is not important."

Orophin sighed. "That is not true. What of Haldir? Do not shut him away, Mairen."

She was clutching the horse's bridal tightly, but Orophin drew her away from Epona and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tremble. "I have to do this," she whispered. "And it is not fair to make him wait."

Orophin brushed her hair back from her head as Loriel drew alongside. "He will do what he feels is right. But you have to speak to him. Do not leave such anger between you."

Mairen pulled back, rubbing her hand across her eyes. "I will talk to him." She met Orophin's gaze evenly, although her eyes were still bright with moisture. "But I cannot promise I will come back."

Loriel handed Orophin the reins to his horse. "She will be back, if Haldir has his way." She gave Mairen a stern glance and then mounted her horse as Haldir appeared on the crest of the hill. "He is a storm that will calm. The storm rages but soon quiets to peace."

They made camp in a steep hillside, sheltered beneath a large overhanging rock. Mairen paced the stony ground beneath the ledge while most of Haldir's wardens spread out to scan the land around them with eyes trained on the far horizon. She cursed the delay, another hour staring at Haldir was another hour she doubted her sanity, and her decisions. Haldir simply ignored her, facing the plain, cold and unyielding. How could she approach such a block of ice? And what to say? Mairen kicked the rocky soil, scuffing the toe of her boot even more. She sank down, picking up some loose stones only to toss them at her feet in despair.

A trilling whistle, a bird call that was not of the plain brought her back to her feet as Haldir glanced over his shoulder to look at her.

"Rohirrim patrol."

Mairen smiled weakly as her heart plummeted inside her chest.

The Rohirrim, unaware of the elves keeping tabs on their advance, nevertheless felt something amiss and were fully armed, lances drawn and held ready as they charged over the plain.

Haldir watched them carefully, waiting until the horses were nearly past him before stepping out onto the ledge. The horses veered instantly around, the leader's lance sending a glancing shaft of light into Mairen's eyes as she joined Haldir on the ledge. The precision of the horsemen, their effortless control of the stallions beneath them thrilled her. This was her life, her place. She waved as the horses charged forward, noting with excitement that it was Renny's patrol that came to a thundering halt not ten feet from Haldir.

Ten feet with lances pointed warily at the tall elf.

Renny stared at Haldir, his bearded face taut with strain as his gaze met the March Warden's. It seemed like eternity before he relented and moved it to Mairen. Was she such a stranger that he beheld her so coldly? Mairen watched as the Rohirran dismounted, and behind him another did as well, but then she was leaping off the rock and running toward the outstretched arms of her brother.

"By God, Mairen, we thought you surely dead, although the lady sent us word you fared well." Renny lifted her up, gazing into her eyes with concern, and then hugged her so tightly she felt her spine crack. He released her to hold her back and then she was being whirled to face one she thought would never see her again. Willem's blue eyes were alight with laughter, his brows arched as he stared at her in amazement.

"I can see you, and you look awful."

Mairen punched him soundly, earning her a laughing grunt and another bear hug. She wriggled out of his grasp, pushing the once blind warrior back to view him more fully.

"You can see, Willem?"

The Rohirran grinned, rubbing his jaw as he stared at Renny. "Aye. Not as well as I did, but well enough after a year of seeing naught."

She stared at Renny. "But how?"

Renny simply snorted and laughed. "Ask Willem."

Mairen whirled again to face her other brother, aware that the rest of the Rohirrim had dismounted but stood back. Willem turned from greeting Haldir, releasing Haldir's unenthusiastic handshake so he might clasp Mairen's face in his hands.

"I guess I can thank Rolfe for taking his anger out on me and not you." The Rohirran laughed again, a welcome sound to Mairen's ears. "He and I disagreed on whether it was a good idea to send you to Lórien. Rolfe was certain you would never return, or if you did it would be without your heart." Willem's glance slid over his shoulder to Haldir who remained behind them. He leaned closer to Mairen. "Or return carrying a wee one if naught else."

Mairen laughed shakily. "Silly, I am coming home as I was. But that does not tell me how you regained your sight."

Willem scratched at his beard, his blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight. "Well, we had a bit of a scuffle, see."

Mairen folded her arms. "A scuffle? He would take advantage of you? You were blind!"

Willem scowled fiercely. "Blind, yes, but not an invalid and unwilling to listen to the horse's ass snivel about you turning into an elf or having elven children." He glanced warily again at Haldir, and Mairen noted the elf's eyes had narrowed dangerously. "But the last straw was his talk about Haldir. The elf has done nothing but aid you and Rolfe's scorn for him was unjustified. When he said the elf hadn't any more balls than a . . . well . . ." Willem coughed, and gave Mairen a sheepish grin. "So we scuffled on the King's steps, and I was, well, knocked off."

Mairen knew her eyes couldn't get any bigger. "Knocked off? The steps?"

Willem shrugged. "Nay, the platform."

Mairen gasped. "It is a hundred foot drop on the far side! Don't tell me he shoved you off! You could have been killed!"

Willem laughed. "Nay, I landed on a narrow ledge about twenty feet down. It was an accident, Mairen. I was blind, after all."

Mairen rolled her eyes. "He should have known better."

Willem's gaze slid back to Haldir. "But was he right?"

Renny's hand settled on Mairen's shoulder as both of her brothers gathered close. She gazed into their faces. Both were expecting an honest answer. "I am not with child if that is what you worried about." She frowned, aware that she could have been, but knew that Haldir had somehow prevented it. The memory slid through her mind, leaving a aching sense of loss. "I am coming home so that should tell you everything."

Renny gripped her chin, his leather gauntlets rough on her face. "It tells me nothing and sounds more like you evade the answer."

She blinked, knowing them too well, knowing they would not back down, and even perhaps go to Haldir for answers. It was better they got them from her, for there was no saying what Haldir might tell them. She pulled Renny's hand from her chin. "I love Haldir. But you will say nothing to him about it. I am coming home, Renny."

Willem drew closer, shielding her from Haldir's gaze. "You love him? Then why leave him? Will he not take you in?"

Mairen shook her head. "Quite the contrary. He has asked me to stay, but I cannot."

Renny's head tilted as he studied her. "You look different. Your hair is shiny, and your eyes . . . I can't explain."

Willem pulled on a length of hair that curled under her chin. "Her hair is clean, and the sun glitters in her eyes. But I admit that you are different. You are healed?"

Mairen tucked the stray hair behind her ear. "I am healed."

Renny grinned, revealing straight white teeth amid his beard. "And so what are ye now? Elfirrim?" He laughed at the joke to the dry stares of both Mairen and Willem. With a cough, he shrugged and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Can't take any jokes yet, I see."

Mairen sighed, shoving Renny's arm aside. "I don't know what I am, but we can't stand around all day and discuss it." She turned to Haldir, who was staring over the plain again, and caught the slight flicker of his hand, a signal telling her the elves felt something amiss. She caught Renny's arm. "I fear there is danger near."

Renny stiffened and waved to one of the Rohirrim, who ran forward. "How many elves are with you?"

Mairen glanced at Haldir again. "Fourteen."

Renny laughed. "I see four."

Haldir turned to them, his expression just as dry as his voice. "Ten lie outside amid the grasses. Do you doubt her word?"

Renny walked over to face Haldir. They stood nearly nose to nose, the elf slimmer but radiating a confidence the Rohirrim lacked. Renny bristled, but finally stepped back, bowing slightly to Haldir. "Fourteen then. We have forty Rohirrim. Where do you think the danger lies?"

Haldir's eyes did not waver. "We are now surrounded. They only wait for nightfall."

Haldir sheathed his sword. The battle with the Orcs who had planned to ambush a group of elves was, in the end, hardly a battle, thanks to the hidden elves and forty Rohirrim. Arrows had cut down many of the orc before they had come close, and the few who had were now lying dead on the ground. Haldir bent to retrieve several loose arrows while Orophin led the horses toward him.

"The Orcs were ill prepared. I am surprised they thought they could win such a fight." Orophin handed the reins to Haldir, his gaze flitting over the fallen Orcs.

Haldir leaped into his saddle, adjusting the long sword comfortably at his hip. The Rohirrim were all mounted and Mairen sat in between her brothers, her gaze on him. "They saw only the four of us, I am sure. They probably hoped the Rohirrim would leave us. They did not expect to be attacked instead."

"True," Orophin agreed, following Haldir's gaze to Mairen. "Will you allow her to leave without saying good-bye?" The Rohirrim were drawing away, Mairen was arguing with her brothers.

Haldir leaned back into his saddle, a small smile curving the corner of his lips. Orophin looked at him in surprise. "You have made a decision?"

Haldir turned the horses around, signaling for the elves to follow. "Indeed, Orophin. Do you think I would allow her to make my choice? I have not given up. Nay, I have a better way to get what I want. She feels she has responsibilities to Rohan? Then I shall play upon those feelings. She will not escape me so easily."

Orophin's eyes were twinkling. "You have a plan. I can see it."

Haldir urged his horse forward, leaving Mairen behind along with the Rohirrim. "I do. She will not be able to refuse. But I will let her think I am still angry. I have to speak with Galadriel. I am patient, Orophin. The Valar have not drawn us together to let her go now."


	14. Proposals

Title: Mairen, A Life Once Lost

Author: Fianna

Beta: Julie, when she has time

Rating: R ( at some point)

Warnings: Non-canon, tweaks Tolkien's story but hopefully the characters stay in line.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all of these characters and I as a fan and author try to stay true to his vision, but elaborate where he left off. I receive no compensation from writing, only feedback to inspire me to continue.

**Chapter 14: Proposals**

Lothiriel rapped the folded parchment she held on her husband's knuckles to draw his attention. Eomer turned to her with an apologetic smile and lifted her fingers to kiss them gently, but then returned his perusal to the voracious and boisterous crowd of Rohan warriors before him as they sat in the noisy hall of Meduseld. Lothiriel would not be ignored and leaned closer as they sat side by side.

"You will notignore me, Eomer. I am _not _going to let this go on any longer. I can't just stand by and watch her throw her life away."

Eomer heaved a long-suffering sigh and turned to her with a shake of his head. "I think you see more than what is there. Surely the maid looks happy to you; she laughs and argues as she always has." He waved in the general direction of the crowd before them and Lothiriel had to admit that at first glance Mairen did indeed seem as happy as the rest of the warriors surrounding her. But the Queen had studied the girl from the moment she'd returned from Lothlorien and had come to the conclusion all was not well with the Rohirran guard.

"I can see what she wants us all to see, but you have to look beneath her stoic demeanor Eomer. Or are you unwilling to consider the girl might wish to be somewhere else?"

Eomer leaned close to Lothiriel and took her hand in his. "My dearest wife, she has made her choice. What am I to do about it? I cannot force her to return to Lórien and besides we have heard nigh from them in six months. If the elf wanted her that badly he would have come for her by now."

Lothiriel snorted rudely. "If he is like you at all I can see why he has not. She has rejected him for Rohan. Are you not able to see she has forsaken her heart?" Eomer sighed again, and Lothiriel knew she was pushing him hard. This had been a long standing argument since Mairen had returned.

"We have discussed this far more than I like," Eomer argued stubbornly. "As I said, she has made her choice. She admits nothing in regard to the elves, and has even become rather valuable to me." He leaned on his fist with an amused chuckle and waved a hand toward the table where Mairen sat.

"Indeed," he continued with a faint grin. "Did you not see how she put Lord Harad in his place just last month? Her knowledge of Rohan's history as well as the elves that once lived here and their borders had the man biting his tongue. His proposal in regards to our border dispute was neatly redrawn with little argument for he knew as well as I that her words were true. The fat goat will consider the lass more closely next time they meet. I fear she has not gained a friend in him."

Lothiriel smiled smugly, for Mairen had indeed pulled the rug from beneath the lord's feet. Eomer had been very pleased with her knowledge of their history and had taken to having her attend most of his dignitary meetings. She shook her head, realizing suddenly that Eomer had neatly changed the subject. She rapped his hand again in irritation. "You are a rascal!"

Eomer gripped Lothiriel's fingers tightly, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "She will be fine, L'iriel. Do you not think she knows what she has done?"

Lothiriel sniffed and leaned her head against Eomer's shoulder. "Of course she knows, Eomer. But it is too great a sacrifice. Have you considered what she is now? Or have all of you, her brother's included, ignored the fact that Mairen is not what she was. She is not like us anymore."

The Rohirran king's glance moved slowly over his warriors and settled on the slim woman before him. Mairen had changed, not only emotionally, but in appearance. She had regained the weight she'd lost, but yet still seemed slight. She seemed radiant next to the rough men sitting beside her, especially when she was caught unaware. As if the girl felt his perusal Mairen's gaze flickered to him and she nodded, and the gleam he had noted seemed to dim. He shook his head, telling himself he was seeing things and turned back to Lothiriel. "She is still a warrior, and a damn good one that I hate to lose."

Lothiriel nodded. "Yes she is. But how will she be after years of pain and heart-sickness? Eomer, think of our love, would you be able to put it aside for your king forevermore?"

Eomer's shook his head slowly, his eyes shadowed. "Nay, Lothiriel. I treasure you more than you can know. But you must be patient. I promise, if I can find a way to help her, I will."

She bowed her head in acquiesce, she could ask for no more.

Elweth slowly made his way into the upper regions of Caras Galadhon. It was an area he rarely attended without thought of the one who for most of his adult life had been a nemesis to him. Had he been wrong in his assessment of the March Warden? Seothlindë had been determined the elf was meant to love her, yet he had not. What might have happened had the slight warrior of Mithlond not died so young? He had wondered many times.

Did Mairen remember Seothlindë's convictions as strongly as she had felt them while alive? Elweth had to believe so, and yet she had rejected those very same feelings and returned to Rohan. It was an incredible force of will, for Elweth knew first hand how strong Seothlindë's desire for the elf had been. Some of that must still reside in the Rohirran maiden. He shook his head in amazement, for Mairen to leave Lorien, to forsake what she had lived her life for as Seothlindë was almost unbelievable, yet she had. What drew her back to the race of men?

And how could the March Warden have let her go so easily? That fact had also surprised Elweth. He reached a long arched bridge that spanned gracefully through the canopy and moved slowly along the wooden path, his thoughts still turned inward. Overhead the gilded leaves shivered in the soft breeze and a few floated effortlessly down to land at his feet as he paused to lean on the rail. How could Haldir have allowed her to return to Rohan after his declaration that she belonged to him before everyone including Lord Celeborn? Elweth whirled as he sensed a presence behind him.

"You seem very deep in thought, Elweth? Does your mind center on my brother since you are so near to his talan?"

Orophin stood in the center of the walkway. The warden was dressed for travel and he held the long bow of the border guardians casually at his side, yet Elweth felt the faint air of distrust the elf held tightly in check. Elweth touched his heart and bowed. "In fact it does, Orophin. Actually, I was on my way there. I have to know what he intends to do about Mairen. It has been months since she left and I have heard nothing."

Orophin's face was inscrutable, but Elweth caught the hint of worry that flashed in the elf's eyes. "What Haldir does is his business."

Elweth shook his head adamantly. "Not true. My concern for Mairen is comparable to the March Warden's. I have been as close to her as any and Loriel also grows worried. I cannot believe she does not plan on returning."

Orophin shrugged. "You were close to Seothlindë, which is not the same. Why does it matter to you? She belongs to no one she says. She has chosen Rohan."

"I don't believe your brother would give up so easily."

Orophin smiled languidly. "Who said he has given up, Elweth? Perhaps he only gives her time to truly understand what her choice means. She is immortal although she continues to deny it. She has many years to consider before her."

Elweth folded his arms over his chest with a grimace. "And so Haldir will let her grieve to spite her for rejecting him?"

"Nay, Elweth, I would not." Haldir advanced toward them slowly as both elves turned.

Elweth stiffened, his arms dropping to his sides. "What do you plan then?"

Haldir's gaze rested for a moment on the forest and then the silver eyes turned to Elweth. "Do you still love her?" Haldir asked unexpectedly.

"No, not as you do," Elweth responded immediately and Haldir sent him a surprised glance.

"That is good," Haldir replied genially. "I have been your rival for too long."

Elweth turned to face the railing. "Aye, perhaps you were, although you did not mean to be such an adversary. But I am no challenge to you, for you hold her heart now as surely as you did then."

Haldir nodded and glanced at Orophin. "We shall see. I have done what I can. The rest lies in both Eomer and Mairen's hands."

Elweth stepped aside as both wardens moved past him, but his dissatisfaction in Haldir's response forced him to speak further. "So you leave it for her to decide yet again? She is stubborn, Haldir. She will not give in easily if she feels that her place is in Rohan."

Haldir stopped and turned back to face Elweth. "What will be will be."

Elweth threw up his hands. "Would you leave her in misery if she refuses?" he demanded harshly. "I wish only for her to be happy. I may not love her as I did, but I still care for her. I think she has been through enough!" Haldir's eyes glittered darkly and Elweth felt a momentary sense of unease. The warden, as few of the elves in Lorien, could intimidate him with a mere glance.

"I agree, Elweth, and so I take no offense at your tone. I understand her more than you think. I have played upon her heart, and now I will play upon her sense of responsibility. Do not worry about her. She will return to me and to Lórien where she truly belongs."

Elweth reached out to grasp Haldir's arm as he turned. "I hope my words did not force her decision when she left. I am sorry if it did."

Haldir glanced at Elweth's hand and the smith dropped it quickly. "You may have made her more determined to do what she did. But it matters not. She had to go, or she would never have felt certain her life here was right. I do not find you at fault." The March Warden paused for a moment, his gaze flickering to the shivering leaves around them and returned once more to Elweth. "But have no doubt the woman is mine and none other."

Elweth stepped back with a bow. "I ask your pardon in disturbing you, Haldir."

Haldir nodded and then both wardens strode swiftly down the path, disappearing into the shadows of the canopy. Elweth straightened with a faint smile curving his lips. It seemed that Haldir was as determined to have the elleth

Rolfe rolled over in his bed with a curse as the pounding finally woke him and he realized it was not only his head that was reverberating with pain but also the wooden door. He groaned and rose, staggering to the door to yank it open with a curse.

"Bloody hell, what in the horse's balls do you want?" He glared at the slight form still attempting to pound on the door, hand in mid air.

"Want?" Mairen snarled and pushed past her eldest brother with a snort. "I am just trying to wake the dead. Have you any idea what time it is?"

Rolfe rubbed his left eye, squinting with his right at the light outside. "It's daylight so it can't be too late." He slammed the door shut and sank down in a chair near the fire.

Mairen shook her head. "It's mid-afternoon, but that's not why I am here. King Eomer has asked for you, and I've been pounding on your door for nearly fifteen minutes."

Rolfe sat up with a groan. "Damn, why didn't you say so?" He rose and went to the tall stand near the door and poured some water from a pitcher into the wide bowl beside it. With a growl he bent forward and immersed his head into the bowl, splashing water onto the table and then straightened, wiping the water from his eyes.

Mairen grinned, handing him a cloth to dry his face. "At least you'll be awake."

Rolfe sent her a disgusted glance and swept out the door as she followed. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"Nay, would you like me to come along?"

Rolfe glanced at his sister. "If he has not asked you to attend him, then no. I am sure it is only regarding the patrols."

Mairen shrugged. "Well, whatever it was he meant for you to hurry." She waved him off at the steps to Meduseld and proceeded away from him toward the stables. Rolfe watched her go with a faint sense of despair. As much as she tried to pretend things were as they had been, she was far different from the sister he'd known only a year ago. He sighed and leaped up the steps and into the darkness of the great hall.

Eomer sat upon his throne, alone but for the guard's captain, Gamling. A fire was banked in the center of the hall, and the coals smoldered red as he passed. Gamling murmured a low greeting and Rolfe bowed low before Eomer.

"My Lord?"

Eomer leaned back into his chair with a frown as Rolfe straightened. "How well do you know your sister, Rolfe? Is she happy?"

Eomer watched the play of surprise brush Rolfe's features as the guard rubbed his hand over his face. Rolfe glanced at Gamling and then back at Eomer with a reserved expression but answered succinctly.

"I think I know Mairen very well, my lord. Of course she is happy."

Eomer leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Truly, Rolfe? Lothiriel thinks otherwise. Have you no counsel as to how she feels? Has she forgotten the elves?"

Rolfe's face went blank as his eyes narrowed. "The Queen is very perceptive."

Gamling coughed slightly and smiled. "The lady is very observant. She seems to think we are not." He gave Eomer an apprehensive glance but Eomer merely nodded in agreement. "I find your sister is much like the king."

Eomer turned to Gamling with an amused laugh. "Indeed? And how is this?"

Gamling folded his arms behind his back, moving to the side of the throne. "Both of you have two sides to balance. You have your responsibilities as king and your life with the Queen. Mairen has her role as a guardian of Rohan and also her personal life which she has abandoned." He turned his gaze upon Rolfe, his brow furrowing as he considered his next words carefully. "Do you not feel any concern that she lives only for her duties here in Rohan? Or are you just happy that she cannot cast her gaze upon the elves or at least one in particular?"

Rolfe's eyes narrowed slightly. "Since when have you become such a sage in such things, Gamling? Mairen is fine."

Eomer waved his hands with a sigh. Both men would as soon argue than face what he meant for them to consider, what he needed Rolfe to consider. "She has to weigh the importance of these two areas and hopefully keep them in balance."

Gamling gave Rolfe an unsympathetic glance and then bowed slightly before the Rohirran King. "Indeed. You do it well, she does not."

Rolfe snorted. "She just has not found someone here as yet."

Eomer lifted a surprised brow at the remark. "Do you think she will find a Rohan warrior and take him to her bed," Eomer demanded softly, "after she's been with the elf? Seriously, Rolfe?"

Rolfe stiffened. "She has only been infatuated with the elves, nothing more serious than a simple crush upon the March…" Gamling's choked laughter interrupted him and Eomer grinned.

"I think Gamling disagrees," Eomer explained, "as do I. You underestimate your sister. She is not a fifteen year old girl; she is an adult and has made adult decisions for quite some time. She is far different now than she was. You are blind to your sister's heart just as Lothiriel has said, or you just refuse to see it."

Rolfe sank onto a low bench in front of Eomer with a frustrated groan. "I had hoped it would be a brief attraction and then she would forget him. But she has not."

Gamling snorted again and Eomer waved him back. "No she has not, nor has he."

Rolfe's head jerked up and he stared at Eomer warily.

"You have had word with the elf?"

Eomer lifted a paper thin parchment from the table at his side. "I have." He glanced at it and then again at Rolfe. "I asked you how well you know your sister. Tell me, if given a chance to return to Lórien and to the elf, would she go?"

Rolfe shook his head. "No. She has told herself that this is where she belongs. Unless he came and carried her off, she will stick to that decision whether it is right or wrong. She is stubborn."

Eomer nodded in agreement. "So I have thought as well. So she would choose her responsibility to Rohan as more important?"

"Aye."

Eomer scratched his chin. "Well that makes an interesting dilemma, does it not? The wench is not happy, and yet she refuses to return to Lórien. I am quite sure Haldir has considered this too." He waved the letter again. "So," Eomer continued, "if the girl feels her duty comes first, would she do whatever I asked of her, if it were for Rohan?"

Rolfe stood up slowly, his face growing pale. "I believe she would," he answered suspiciously.

Eomer's lips curved in a sardonic smile, aware of Rolfe's struggle with his own sense of duty to Rohan as well as to his sister. If he was the man Eomer thought he was, the next question was going to be a difficult one for Rolfe to admit to. "Even if I decided that it might mean she must _leave_ Rohan?" Eomer asked gently.

Rolfe frowned, his face stiff with displeasure. "What are you getting at, my lord?"

Eomer stood up and faced the tall captain of his guard. An elite warrior he trusted the man instinctively and without hesitation. "I am going to marry her off, Rolfe. I have been given an offer too good to refuse, a tie to a realm that will ensure Rohan's place in history for years to come. An ally we need."

Rolfe's face had gone white. "And to whom do you intend Mairen to marry?"

Gamling chuckled softly and both men turned toward him. "Probably that old goat Lord Harad. Serve him right to gain such a woman as Mairen."

Rolfe's fingers closed around Gamling's throat in an instant. "Over my dead body," he declared in a low growl. "She deserves far better than someone like him, ruler or not."

Eomer pushed the two warriors apart with a dry chuckle. "Stand down, Rolfe. Gamling only seeks to prod your pride. Harad is not who I have in mind. Perhaps you might want to read the letter I received."

Rolfe stepped back, his chin high and took the thin parchment carefully. Eomer watched him read it with a grim smile as an expression of amazement grew on the warrior's face.

"This is not their way."

"No it is not. But it is often_ our_ way, and they know this. An interesting turn of events would you not agree?" Eomer sat back in his throne again with a sigh, leaning his chin on his fist.

"I do not think Mairen would accept the proposal, not if she knows who it comes from. She will think it some trick." Rolfe stated apprehensively, waving the letter at Eomer.

"Does she have a choice if I were to decree it? The offer has been made to me, as one of political maneuvering. How can I deny such an offer? She will have no choice."

Rolfe sat down abruptly with a deep sigh. "And if I do not agree?"

Eomer leaned forward, his brown eyes glinting in the firelight. "Would you disagree, Rolfe? When you know in your heart it's where she belongs?"

Rolfe dropped his head into his hands, obviously struggling with the thought. "I cannot find it in my heart to say no. I just do not like the thought of her leaving Rohan, and with someone like him."

Eomer folded his hands, his own eyes cast at his feet. But his voice rang out softly, a commanding yet gentle tone that brought Rolfe's head up slowly. "But you will. As I command, or not."

Rolfe rose to his feet. "As you command? Nay, Eomer. I give my approval because it is what must be. But she will not agree if she knows who the proposal comes from. Their parting I think was not on good terms."

Eomer sat down on his throne with a faint grin. "Then we do not tell her who asks for her hand."

Loriel watched the tall elf crouch at the edge of the stream, the Nimrodel swirling, eddying in the spaces between the rocks. It picked up bits of debris as it washed along the edges of the bank and tiny fishes sent glittering flashes of light as the sun struck their silvery scales. Haldir stood up slowly, his head turning slightly as he spoke.

"Are you looking for me, Loriel?"

Loriel drew a silent breath. As much as she liked Haldir, and of late grown quite fond of him, he still could make her nervous. And the questions she held back would only serve to make the March Warden more distant, if that could be possible. Since Mairen had left the captain of the Lothlorien guard had been rarely seen. But Elweth had given her no satisfactory answers and so she had come to Haldir herself.

Haldir turned slowly, his grey eyes narrowed against the bright light, allowing her little chance to see any expression. His face bore none, as was his way, but she had learned to see the faint glimpses of emotion in his eyes. The lack of any boded ill for her answers.

"Have you heard from Mairen?"

Haldir shook his head. "Nay. Why would you think I have? She has returned to Rohan, and by her words does not plan on coming back."

Loriel moved closer, edging past a few rocks to stare up into the elf's face. Haldir bore her perusal stoically, only lifting a long arched brow inquisitively.

"I was just checking to see if you were serious. I know she said that, Haldir. But you don't honestly think she meant it?"

Haldir shrugged elegantly, turning away but Loriel caught the brief glimpse of a smile. She reached out to grasp his arm with a grin. "You have done something, do tell?"

Haldir's glance was stern and Loriel dropped her hand quickly. "It is not for me to say, for I have heard no response as yet."

Loriel folded her arms across her chest, biting her lip. "You would tell me Haldir if you thought she would not return? I have come to care greatly for the Rohirran as does Elweth. You have no cause for worry there, you know."

Haldir chuckled, and suddenly draped an arm around Loriel's shoulders to her surprise. "Indeed, I see his gaze has fallen on someone else, and if Rumil speaks true, then it is about time?"

Loriel waggled her eyebrows with a wry laugh. "Indeed, if I had to wait much longer I was going to knock him out and drag him to my bed." She chuckled as Haldir shook his head. "Perhaps this is what you need to do with Mairen?"

Haldir's deep breath spoke volumes. "Nay, Loriel. I cannot force her to come to me. Not in that respect. I will do what I can, but in the end it really must be her decision. If she loves me."

Loriel stepped in front of Haldir, grasping his arms gently. "Loves you? Haldir she has loved you for two lifetimes. Perhaps it is just overwhelming for her to have such depth of emotion, and to have it so strongly in both lives. It can be frightening to love so deeply."

Haldir brushed his fingers under her chin with a slight twist of his lips. "True, Loriel. And I believe Mairen has the strength to overcome that fear. I can only hope so, but I do not even know if she thinks of me."

"She thinks of you often, although she tries not to," Lord Celeborn murmured softly and Haldir turned to face the elven lord.

"You have been in contact with her?"

Celeborn shook his head and waved Haldir and Loriel toward the edge of the stream. They began to walk slowly amid the grasses that grew along the bank. "Nay, but I have a sense of her mind, more so now that she has melded. I do not think she realizes it, and most of the time I have no idea what she feels. But when she is unguarded I think, her mind opens and she seeks something, but does not know what it is."

Haldir folded his hands behind his back. "I do not want to force her to return."

"No you do not," Celeborn agreed and smiled at Loriel. "But she has blinded herself from her heart. Something must happen to make her understand that she has a long future she must consider." Celeborn stopped and grasped Haldir's arm, his blue eyes dark with concern. "You must handle this well, Haldir. One wrong step and she will fly from you forever. We do not know what the Valar revealed to her in her sleep, nor what exactly they told her of her future. Perhaps even they do not know?"

Loriel felt slightly out of place, but Haldir did not seem to mind her presence as he walked slowly. He was frowning, his expression apprehensive. Loriel didn't know what to say and they walked in silence for quite some time, curving along the stream toward the city. Finally Haldir spoke his voice low and to Loriel's view, filled with a slight touch of dread. "Have you had a response to the letter?"

Celeborn glanced at Haldir briefly. "Galadriel receives the messenger even now."

Haldir stared above him into the distant canopy of leaves, a grim smile hovering about his mouth. "And you were going to tell me when?"

Loriel stopped, watching Celeborn's blue eyes twinkle mischievously. "When the moment called for it."

"And the reply?"

Celeborn reached out to rest his hand on Haldir's shoulder. "I think you will have a journey to make, Haldir."

Willem reined in the stallion, and the horse backed up several steps with a shake of his head and a snort. Mairen whirled the long stave over her head, moving in a circle as Willem kept abreast, twirling the spear in a series of complicated moves that had the men watching murmuring with approval. Eamon stepped into the ring and the two began to circle, matching step for step.

"I've seen you do this a hundred times now, it can't be that hard," Eamon insisted, spinning the long spear in his hand over one shoulder and then over his head. Mairen ducked the swing as it passed near her and then reversed her grip to whack the Rohirran on the back of the knees. He went down with a thud and the onlookers laughed heartily.

"Not as easy as you thought?" Mairen grinned, holding out her hand.

Eamon growled and caught her hand, only to pull her over him and onto her back. She rolled swiftly in the dirt and leaped onto her feet but then quickly flipped gracefully backwards to avoid the shaft of the spear Eamon swung at her waist. She came up swinging her own lance and the Rohirran ducked and twisted around to face her again.

"That was a good move. You were paying attention!" Mairen laughed, hopping over a low thrust from Eamon. Her moves were unconscious, remembered from a lifetime ago. But even with Seothlindë's skill, she was still vulnerable and found out quickly as Eamon moved forward.

"Yes, but are you?" he asked as he reversed the stroke just as she cleared the shaft and brought it up under her ankles to flip her onto her back. Mairen landed hard, knocking the wind from her chest and she took a moment to breathe while Eamon leaned over her. "If I were an orc you'd be dead."

"If you were an orc you'd be a really ugly one," she countered and then rolled to the side as he reached out to grab her. She rose to her feet and caught the binding of Willem's saddle as he passed by to pull herself astride behind him.

Eamon leaned against the spear and watched them circle around him. "Have you spoken with Rolfe today?"

Mairen leaned sideways to catch Eamon's spear as Willem veered the horse toward him. "No," she said as he evaded her. Willem shifted as Mairen slid off the horse and then faced Eamon again. "Why?"

Eamon shrugged. "Nothing. He was just looking for you earlier."

Mairen caught the staff Willem tossed her from his horse. "Well, it must not have been too important. I have not seen him."

Eamon glanced at Willem. "I am sure he will seek you out if it was." The Rohirran leaped forward and lances clattered as Mairen blocked his blow.

"Do you know what he wanted?" she asked breathlessly as they circled again. Eamon was getting harder to defeat as she taught him the moves she knew from long ago.

"Eamon knows nothing, but I thought I heard it had something to with a letter the king received." Willem called from the sideline.

Mairen turned toward him in surprise. "A letter. . ." she began and then found herself sprawled on the hard-packed earth with the sky and clouds spinning over her head.

Eamon leaned over her again, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Aye, a letter."

Mairen hurried up the steep path through Edoras, weaving past the goat herders and sheep and assorted creatures that seemed to flock into her path. The gilded hall of Meduseld, long ago built by the Rohan kings glittered in the sunlight, scoured by the harsh winds of the mountains and plains. She leaped up the stone steps and then jerked back as the large wooden doors to the hall swept open and Eomer and Rolfe stepped outside into the wind.

She bowed before the king and then glanced at her brother. "Eamon said you were looking for me?"

Rolfe seemed uneasy and Eomer stepped forward to take her elbow and then drew her aside. "He was. I asked for you, Mairen." The King steered her gently toward the edge of the platform. From there they could see for leagues and in the far distance the purple-hued mountains that surrounded the valley. Eomer waved away the guards that stood near the door and they moved inside along with Rolfe.

"I would have a word with you if I might?"

She nodded shortly. "Of course, my lord. I am at your service."

Eomer opened his mouth but then closed it with an odd look. He turned toward the doors and called for Gamling. The captain hurried outside and Eomer took his arm to draw him near. Eomer reached up to his head and gently removed the heavy golden crown he now wore as king.

"Take this for a moment, Gamling." He handed the crown to the startled captain and then waited for a moment until Gamling understood he was to leave and hurried back inside the building. Eomer turned back to Mairen with a faint grin.

"I speak to you now as only Eomer, not King, nor nephew of the King. But as a friend."

Mairen smiled. "If you could only do so, Eomer; you will always be my king but speak freely."

The Rohirran ran a hand over his blond hair and then rubbed his chin. "It is not easy being the King. There are days when I would rather lie in bed with Lothiriel and forget the troubles we face. We have seen nigh the end of our world, Mairen, and survived. Of that we should be grateful, should we not?"

Mairen watched him carefully as Eomer paced before her. "Indeed, and I am."

Eomer sighed and sent her a searching look. "If you had the chance would you return to Lórien?"

She bit her lip and turned away, accepting his word that this was not a formal moment. Could she go back? She pushed away the thought, the hope. "No. I made my choice to stay, Eomer. I will not go back."

Eomer stood beside her at the edge of Meduseld, ignoring the long drop below him. "I would not be angry were you to go back. If you felt that was where your heart lies."

Mairen shivered as a chill ran down her spine. "My heart stays here, my lord. I have no wish to go back."

Eomer glanced at her, the sunlight glinting on the golden strands of his hair. "Do you fear he has forgotten you?"

She gripped the sword at her hip tightly. "I can only hope that he has."

Eomer shook his head and returned his gaze to the mountains for several moments. "Gamling!" he shouted and the doors swung open as the captain hurried outside again. "My crown?" Eomer asked as Gamling bowed before him.

Gamling blinked and then handed the crown back to Eomer who carefully set it upon his head. Eomer waved the captain away and the doors soon shut again, leaving Mairen and Eomer alone once more.

"I speak to you now as King, Mairen," Eomer stated quietly.

Mairen bowed before the tall Rohirran King.

"I give you a choice and once made I expect you to adhere to it without complaint." Eomer folded his arms behind his back and faced the mountains again. Mairen watched him with a growing sense of dread but made no sound.

"As King I offer you the chance to return to Lórien, to do what you wish with no ill feeling from this land. You will always be of Rohan, and we will always welcome you. Will you go?"

Mairen was startled to find the question before her again. "Nay my lord, my answer is the same." She drew back a step as Eomer turned to face her.

"This is your last chance, Mairen."

"One that I appreciate, but I am a Rohan Shield maiden and my place is here serving Rohan and you."

Eomer's sigh drew her up stiffly. "Why do you fall so neatly into my plan? It is as if the Valar have some will with you and lead you along." He shook his head again but Mairen did not see it as she stared at him in confusion.

"What do you mean, my lord?"

"I gave you the choice of returning to the land of the elves, of which you are a part though you deny it." Eomer began to pace again, seemingly unaware his crown tilted slightly over one eye to give him a rakish look. The king paced for a few moments, pausing every so often to study her.

"There are some things we must do for our people and not ourselves. Do you not agree?" Eomer's eyes met hers evenly.

"Indeed, my lord." Mairen answered steadily.

"And as such you have heard of the politics of royalty and occasions when matches are made between realms for the sake of peace and future prosperity and alliance?"

Mairen nodded with a growing sense of dismay.

"I have received word of one who has become taken with you, Mairen. Your meeting recently seems to have won his heart!"

Mairen drew back, searching her memory of such a suitor. None seemed forthcoming until she remembered the meeting with Lord Harad. Nay, it could not be him, the short squalid man had attempted to deceive Eomer but she had forced him to the truth. He couldn't be interested in her, unless it was for some kind of petty revenge…" Mairen felt the blood drain from her face.

Eomer continued to pace, oblivious to her dismay. "Indeed, the suitor claims you have stolen not only his heart, but the very words from his mouth."

Mairen felt faint.

"I cannot in all respect deny him this opportunity," Eomer continued "for in fact an alliance such as this would cement our relationship for many years to come."

Mairen shuddered. "If it is what you command, sire," she said weakly as Eomer studied the far mountains. Finally he turned toward her.

"I shall send word that the proposal is accepted then."

Mairen bowed low, hoping the horror she felt was hidden. "As you wish, my lord."

"She did what?" Lothiriel asked in dismay.

"She accepted it without a word." Eomer sighed as he lay across their bed.

Lothiriel pounced on the king, straddling the man below her. "What did you say? Did you not give her leave to return to Lórien?"

Eomer reached up to clasp Lothiriel's face gently. "I gave her a chance twice, dear heart and she refused."

"I don't understand? How can she deny her feelings for him?"

"Perhaps we don't know her as well as we thought?"

Lothiriel rested her forehead against Eomer's shoulder with a resigned sigh. "So you have thrown her to the wolves?"

Eomer drew his hands through his wife's long dark hair. "Aye, Lórien wolves my dear."

She sat up and leaned over him, placing her hands beside his head. "What do you mean?"

"The proposal comes from Lothlórien dear heart. She will go to the elves whether she does it on her own or by my hand."

Lothiriel bent closer to nip at Eomer's nose. "Does she know this?"

Eomer finally grinned. "Nay. I think she believes it to be someone else…"

"And you have not corrected that thought?"

He laughed softly. "Nay. And neither will you. It is Rolfe's choice to leave her in the dark, for he fears if she knew the real suitor is Haldir she would flee. For some reason she fears the elf and her own feelings toward him. She belongs not in our midst. It is unsettling for Uncle Theoden spoke the same at Helm's Deep as we sat along the ramparts after the battle. He said her path would take her from us and he was going to be sad to lose her."

"And are you?"

Eomer swept the hair back from Lothiriel's face to better see her. "I will be sorry, aye. She has been a loyal friend and a good warrior. But she will aid us even in the lands of the elves, for I shall call upon her to be my emissary when needed. Does that agree with you, my lady?"

Lothiriel kissed him, a lingering kiss that made him breathless.

"Aye, it does. We need to send for Eowyn. Mairen will be hard pressed to dress in something more suitable than a tunic and leggings."

Mairen sat near Epona, while the horse nibbled daintily at the bits of grass still green and not yet dead from the recent frost. The plain was cold, the chill wind of winter soon to come blasted over the rolling hills. She ignored the cold, merely drew her cloak tighter around her as she watched the sun slowly set behind the low mountain bearing the gilded hall of Meduseld in the distance.

So much she had given up, only to be used as a pawn among nations. How had this all come about? From her own stupidity she chided herself. How many times must Eomer ask her if she wished to go, to return to Haldir? She rested her head against her knees, but not in despair.

She had been certain her life lay among the Rohan. The faint memory that stirred within her mind, one that faded more each day of her meeting with the Valar seemed to drive her toward that choice. Was this her choice truly or were they meddling once more? Did Eomer's musing that she seemed to fall too neatly into his plans reflect their interference again? But how could she know, and did she really have any way of deflecting their wishes? Perhaps it was all meant to be?

She crossed her arms and leaned over her knees, as the sun faded behind the mountains, leaving the city black against the still purple sky. In moments lights began to blink on as the Rohirrim lit lamps against the encroaching darkness. She had but moments before the plain would be swathed in darkness, but she continued to sit as the stars began to glitter overhead.

Epona whinnied, but continued to graze comfortably. Mairen plucked at strand of grass at her feet absently. She had agreed to the whole folly. She could not refuse now, and would not. She had chosen her path.

Would he understand? She drew the worry stone from within her pouch and held it lightly, unsure whether it would react to her if held gently. Did she dare contact him and tell him? What would he do? Would he even meet with her?

It was only fair that she tell him. He would more than likely be hurt, but also must know that in the end she could not refuse. He understood duty, and loyalty did he not? She held the stone to her cheek, feeling it warm beneath her fingers.

Haldir?

The word, his name evoked a memory of the forest. A deep woodsy smell seemed to drift under her nose; a sound akin to the leaves shivering in the mild breezes that swept the Golden Wood caught her ear. She closed her eyes, her heart swelling with the memories and called to him within her mind.

Haldir.

The answer this time was swift; a brief glow of candlelight as she saw what he saw and then his mind filled hers, his worry and relief touched her thoughts. She drew from a memory a picture of the banks of the river, a small stream that led into the wood. He answered quickly. It would take her two days to get there, for him hardly a day. He was near the western border already. He would wait.

Mairen shuddered as she dropped the stone to the ground. The force of his personality, the very essence of him filled her mind and she could not push it away. She lay back amid the frosty grass to stare up at the twinkling glow of the stars. Dear Elbereth, could she see him again only to say good-bye. She closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek and into her ear.

Haldir leaped from rock to rock, crossing the river easily in the shallows toward the small stream that Mairen had envisioned. What did she have to say? Would she speak of his letter? They had received Eomer's formal acceptance. Why would she wish to see him?

He reached the small bower, surrounded by trees and split by the stream. It was a tiny glade, and he was surprised she had remembered it. Had she drawn the image from him? It was a place of solitude and he'd come here occasionally to stare across the plain, knowing she was there.

A movement amid the shadows drew his attention and he stepped back in the midst of the trees to watch. Mairen drew her horse through the wood, picking her way through the brush quietly. Haldir watched her cross the stream and then release Epona to graze the tender grass in the glade. Mairen turned around, studying the trees, the sky and then finally the very shadows where he stood.

"I nearly didn't see you, but you did not try very hard to shield yourself."

Haldir stepped out from the trees. She had grown very observant. "Mairen."

She stood staring at him, her face devoid of expression. Haldir waited, not knowing what she was feeling; only sensing the turmoil that still seemed to surround her.

"Are you all right?" he asked carefully as she swallowed and ran a hand over her temple.

"Fine, Haldir." She must have realized she was rubbing her forehead for she pulled her hand free with a frown. "I needed to tell you some news."

Haldir drew closer, but not within reach. "Indeed. And this news?"

Mairen looked away, her jaw tense, her demeanor too stoic for his liking. "I… how have you been?"

Haldir nearly smiled, but only bowed his head slightly. "As well as to be expected."

She whirled to stalk across the glade to the stream and bent down as if to drink. A stalling tactic, what was bothering her? Had she come to tell him she'd changed her mind? She rose, shaking the water from her hand and then slowly turned toward him.

"I am getting married, Haldir."

He lifted a brow. "Indeed?"

She was clenching her fists, her body stiff and unyielding. Haldir could sense the difficulty she was having with her choice of words. "It's a political match…"

He sensed something amiss. Did she not understand? "Are you being forced to marry…." He began but she turned away again.

"No, I am not. I … I agreed, Haldir. I am sorry."

He was confused but did not approach her. "Sorry, Mairen? Why?"

"Because I won't be returning to Lórien, I have duties and loyalties. I … Eomer needs… because I am not marrying _you_, Haldir." She finally stated as she turned to face him, her face set, but her eyes were deeply shadowed.

"We don't marry, Mairen, we bind together," he corrected absently and frowned. Not with him, but they had received Eomer's assurances that she had agreed? He stepped closer but she backed away several steps.

"Who_ are_ you marrying?" he asked.

She bit her lip and gave him a confused smile. "I… believe it is Lord Harad…"

Haldir stiffened and crossed toward her too quickly for her to evade him. He gripped her arms drawing her close. "How do you know this?"

She was trembling and he wanted desperately to crush her against him. She pushed his hands off her arms and stepped back. "I, well…I… I don't know but Eomer did say it was someone I had dealt with recently, and we just had a visit from him. And that it would cement their relationship. It all fits so well."

"But he did not tell you this?"

Mairen rubbed her temple. "Well no, I don't think I gave him the chance, really. I was too surprised to pay attention to anything else but that he'd received such a request. I … I had to agree. You understand don't you?" she pleaded softly.

Haldir clenched his teeth. He understood too well the Rohirrim penchant for teasing. He would speak with Eomer on it, but for the moment he caught Mairen's hand in his, drawing it to his lips. "So you would take another?"

Her eyes widened and she drew back her hand to her chest. "It's not like that; it's only a political match, nothing more."

He snorted. "You do not think he will want what such a marriage entails?"

Mairen flushed. "It will not be like that."

Haldir drew closer, nearly touching her but not quite. "I doubt that, Mairen. Have you truly considered what you have agreed to? He gains your heart as well as your body."

She shuddered. "I cannot refuse. I have given my word." She whirled away and caught Epona's reins. "My brothers wait for me on the far ridge. I cannot stay any longer." She leaped into the saddle with a grace that made Haldir smile. He stepped forward as she turned Epona around.

"Have faith in the Valar, Mairen. They have chosen." He stepped back as she urged her horse forward and then she was gone, the sound of the horse's hooves echoing back to him.

His eyes narrowed as he looked over the plain. Eomer and Mairen's brothers would have some explaining to do. In a moment the glade was empty, only the stream gurgled in the distance.

The fire had burned to blackened embers when Mairen awoke. The room was cold as she lay curled beneath the heavy quilt, frost had etched intricate patterns of delicate veins on the window and the air was bitingly crisp and burned her nose as she took a deep breath. Winter had arrived during the night and she curled deeper beneath the blanket, wrapping her arms around her pillow.

How much longer did she have she wondered. She knew that Eomer had sent word of her agreement, yet still he had not formally announced the betrothal. Was there problems or had the man changed his mind? She shivered as a chill slid slowly down her spine. She could only wish he would. She closed her eyes, not wanting to face the day quite yet. It was early and the sky was just beginning to lighten. She lay still, unconsciously falling into a reverie that she'd seen Haldir do many times. Her mind free she relaxed.

But not for long.

_The air on her skin was warm, a lingering kiss of heat that had caressed her, even as he slid the edge of her sleeve over her shoulder. How had she dared to become so bold, and toward the very one who had made her tremble. As she was now as he leaned closer, his lips trailing a path along her collarbone and down her shoulder. Haldir, she whispered as he kissed the edge of her chin. She was breathless, his fingers caressing her hips as he leaned against her, pressing her gently against the tree behind her. Her skin burned where he drew his fingers, even through the sheer material of the elven gown she could feel the heat from his hands. He slid his arms to either side of her head and pressed a gentle kiss near her ear, moving his lips to the sensitive spot just behind the lobe. Mairen he whispered back, his voice deep and resonant as it sent icy shivers down her spine. She drew her hands along the soft fabric of his tunic, the gold a faint glow in the darkness. _

_He held her gently, his fingers sliding through the strands of her hair. She could feel him, as he leaned over her, the hardness of his muscles, and the strength in the body against hers. He slid his fingers under her chin gently lifting it to press a soft kiss on her lips. 'Do you truly want this, Mairen; for once we begin I will be hard-pressed to stop.' She had answered with a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders sliding her hands through the length of his hair. So soft, softer than her own it slid over her hands like water to lie against his back._

_His breath was warm on her neck and goose-bumps rose to make her shiver and he wrapped his arms around her pulling her tightly against his chest. 'Tell me what you feel, Mairen. I would know what you like?'_

_Like? What was there not to like as his lips trailed across her shoulder again. He moved the sleeve off her other shoulder baring both to his slow kisses. Her body was on fire, her skin tingling with sensations she'd never felt before. What magic did he have to evoke such tantalizing feelings within her? She gasped as his lips slid lower, over her chest and down to where the fabric of her dress still covered her breasts._

_'Do you like my kisses, Mairen?'_

Mairen woke gasping for air, trembling with desire and shock. Curse the Valar, why would they allow her to suddenly remember that night and then wake her in the middle of it. She pressed a shaking hand to her eyes, trembling as her blood raced through her veins. How could she marry another when these thoughts now flooded her mind?

She sat up shakily, her body aching for something she could not yet remember. But his kiss still lingered in her mind and she pressed her fingers on the skin of her shoulders, remembering his touch. How could she have forgotten it? The goose-bumps were real as she shivered, both with cold and heat, pulling the heavy quilt around herself.

The door flew open, bringing with it a rush of frigid air and her brother carrying two mugs that steamed in the chill. He shoved the door shut with an arm and then carried the mugs to her and set them on the table nearby.

She stared at Willem as he pulled up a chair to the bed and then handed the mug to her.

"We have some things to discuss, sister."


	15. Schemes of Conspiracy

Author: Fianna

Rating: R for Violence

Disclaimer: Tolkien and his estate owns all rights to the canon characters, I embellish with only love as a reward, with hope that I carry on what Jrr began…

Chapter 15: Schemes of Conspiracy

Rolfe stared across the windswept plain with a deep sense of misgiving, leaning back into his saddle to ease his legs. The long ride across the Eastfold had been hurried and fraught with too many skirmishes with orcs to be considered normal and his mind sped in a multitude of directions for the cause but came back each time to the same conclusion.

He dismounted, crouching down to inspect the footprints at his feet. What chances were there that the orcs would harry the lands of Rohan so reminiscent of the war fought too short a time ago? Who led these creatures? The orcs were not clever enough to create the campaign of terror that now spread over plains of the horsemen. Someone had designs on the lands of the Mark and Rolfe knew Eomer's concern was well placed. Renny and he had ridden far along the border and the resulting random skirmishes only solidified Rolfe's conclusions.

Who had the audacity as well as the strength of mind to control the wretched orcs? At the end of the war, many had died in the cataclysm of Mount Doom's fall, but a few still lingered, hiding from the light and those who sought to finish them off. But someone, someone had lured the creatures into his fold and they once again took brief stabs at the outlying lands of Rohan. But to say who with certainty was not yet in Eomer's grasp. Rolfe had a sense that the answer lay close at hand.

Renny rode up behind him, his brother dismounting in a flurry of woolen cloak, his face flushed from the cold bite of the wind. He bent down beside Rolfe, removing his leather gauntlets to brush the soil aside at their feet.

"I see another track for yet another quarry. How many have we fought this week? Too many Rolfe, I don't like it."

Rolfe rose slowly, slapping his gloves absently in his hand. "I agree. But I don't know what more to do. We head back to Edoras and I have not the answers Eomer wants."

Renny stood up, glancing at the milling horsemen behind him. "The attacks grow bolder, even though the orcs are few and do little damage. It's the boldness that concerns me. The orcs have not been this organized since the war." Rolfe grimaced and turned to his horse, gathering the reins to mount with a creak of leather armor. The horse sneezed and shifted slightly but did not move. Renny stared up at the tall marshal with a troubled frown. "We need more evidence of who controls them, Rolfe."

"I know, Renny. We shall track down this last hoard of orcs, perhaps we can keep one alive long enough for information."

Renny nodded and mounted swiftly, pulling his lance from the sheath on his saddle. "Alive? Good thought, but luck be with you, brother. Keeping an orc alive and willing to talk shall be a trick indeed."

Willem sipped his drink, the steam obscuring his gaze for a moment while Mairen pulled up the heavy quilt, nearly ducking under the blanket. She had no desire for the conversation she imagined her brother wanted to discuss. What more was there? She had accepted a proposal, and that would be the end of it, would it not?

"Mairen, sit up that we may talk. This is important."

She sighed and threw off the blanket and then shivering, drew it back around her shoulders as she took the mug Willem handed her. "All right, what is so important that you come here nearly before dawn?"

"I want you to tell Eomer that you can't do this."

She glanced up, meeting his blue eyes with surprise. "I cannot, I have given my word."

Willem stared at her for a minute, his gaze searching hers. "How can you do it? How can you deny your feelings?"

She handed him back the mug and crawled out of the bed, hugging the quilt tightly around her shoulders. "Why do we go over and over this? For the past year I have found my very sanity challenged and I finally feel like I have some control of my own life. My heart is troubled and yet I feel this is what I must do. Do not make it any harder than it is, Willem, I beg you."

Willem rose and wrapped his arms around her, his chin resting gently on her shoulders. "I only want you to be happy, Mairen. You lie to yourself as well as to all of us to believe you can live here again as you once did. What is so frightening about the elf that you would forsake him? Have you no thought to his feelings?"

The tightness that welled into her throat and the flush of dismay was overwhelming but Mairen struggled to hold the emotions in check. "I don't know for sure what he feels for me. Do you not think if he cared he would have written at least? I have heard nothing from him."

"Do you have so little faith in him and his heart?" Willem accused softly, holding her away from him to see her face. "Have you contacted him? Whose pride is stronger here?"

She couldn't answer. If she did then she would have to admit she had accepted Eomer's decision only because her mind had been blank with shock. Had she had the sense of mind to speak at once, she might not be in this position. And she knew that was exactly why Willem was pushing her.

Willem sighed and grasped her arms to turn her toward him. "So you shall agree to this proposal out of sheer stubbornness? Rolfe has said little to me of it. I fear my heart is torn between loyalty to you and to the King. I would take you away if it is what you would do? I would take you to Lórien if your heart wished it."

She smiled faintly, touched that he was so loyal. Willem's blue eyes searched hers for a long moment and she finally dropped her eyes. Her course was chosen, she would not make a fool of Eomer. He had told her she could not go back once she had agreed. She really had no other choice. "I know, but I must stand by my decision."

The Rohan warrior sighed deeply and he hugged her tightly. "I have word this morning that Eomer received a missive last night. The day draws nigh, Mairen. Are you sure?"

She clutched his tunic, resting her head against his chest. A tough man, willing to forsake his own happiness for her, she did not deserve such loyalty. "Aye, I am sure."

Rolfe sheathed the heavy sword at his hip, his face bearing no trace of concern as he strode away from the brightly burning mound of orcs. No answers, nothing had been forthcoming from the wretched creature they'd wounded but did not kill. His fury was tamped down tightly as he drew further from the stench of the demised orcs, frustrated. He gathering his stallion's reins but did not mount, but rather pulled him further away from the fire to a low hill a short distance from the flames.

He crouched, thankful the moon was bright enough to illuminate the ground as he sketched carefully with a stick. Renny moved alongside with two more of his men and they squatted as Rolfe drew a faint image of the realm of Rohan in the sandy soil.

He pointed with the twig, glancing up at Renny. "Here, we have been harried on these borders, with most lying here and here." He drew a line connecting the areas. "The mountains lie along the west behind Edoras, the great river to our east. The bulk of the attacks lie along the borders of Gondor and most are within the Eastfold."

Renny poked gently in the dirt. "The lands of Lórien lie to the north, with Fangorn here." He marked an x in the dirt. "Those lands have seen little attacks, guarded by Lórien elves and the trees of Fangorn, few orcs dare to enter there."

Rolfe nodded. "I agree. We have been harried by orcs but are they from Mordor? Those lands are nearly decimated and the few that remain would hardly have had the time to regroup."

Renny picked up a stone at his feet, rubbing it absently with a slight frown. "So our concern lies within our borders or that of Gondor?"

Rolfe stared at the map at their feet. "Aragorn is an ally I would think hardly interested in creating strife, indeed, Eomer and he have spoken much regarding these attacks. Faramir arrived just as we left with several letters from the Gondor king, and news of attacks even there. I am certain we must look closer, perhaps consider our own history and those within our realm who have held some dissatisfaction with the Eomer's ascension to King. I believe there are a few who may have coveted the throne of Rohan."

Renny scowled. "Then you must believe it to be Harad! Just months past he pressed Eomer harshly to relinquish the seat. He believes it should have gone to one of the ruling minor Horse Lords beneath Theoden, not to the nephew of the King." Renny threw the stone angrily. "He assumes much and has much more audacity than is warranted. I would have liked to have thrown him out of the hall. Mairen stood him upon his ear, fool that he is, and he did not like her at all. I fear she has a dangerous enemy in that one."

"To be sure," Rolfe agreed. "I know that his departure was not in good humor. His arguments regarding our borders were not accepted as he wished. He holds a grudge against Mairen. But the Anorien is a minor lord. I cannot believe he would have the strength to garner the loyalty of such creatures as the orcs."

Renny bounced another stone in his hand, staring at the map. "The stronghold of Isenguard now lies empty. The wargs and the orcs that controlled them run free among the land and we've had reports of them amid the east as well. Perhaps the evil that was Sauron has yet some hold on those of Middle Earth. Harad is far too pompous in my mind; his greed for what he seeks to covet is rash, edging upon madness."

Rolfe rose suddenly to his feet, turning swiftly with a hand on the sword at his hip. Renny stood up slowly and caught the Rohirran marshal's arm with a soft warning as Rolfe stiffened with indignation.

"I must reprimand my guards for sleeping on watch," the Rohirran marshal snarled softly to the darkness outside the glow of the flames.

The grey-elf appeared, aptly named amid the shadows, visible only when he pulled back the shroud of hood from over his head. Haldir's lips curved slightly and another elf appeared at his side out of the darkness. "Your guards have keen eyes. Do not fault them for not seeing those that do not wish to be seen." Haldir stepped further into the glow of the fire. "The glare lights up the night for leagues."

Rolfe's eyes narrowed. "A good warning for those who think to harry the lands of Rohan. Here they will only find death."

Haldir glanced at the fire and then bowed his head slightly. "Indeed. I would think those who see it would agree."

"What do you want?" Rolfe asked rudely.

Haldir arched a dark brow. "I think you already know what I want."

Renny sighed, gripping Rolfe's hand tightly as it jerked on his sword. He nodded at the tall March Warden curiously. "Haldir, it is good to see you. How many are with you?"

Haldir glanced at the elf at his side. "Twenty. We ride to Edoras."

Rolfe frowned. "Ride? Where are your horses?"

The elf waved into the darkness. "Two leagues back. We were not sure just who was burning, all though I suspected the truth. But I drew closer hoping to find one of Mairen's brothers among the marshals of the Mark."

Renny glanced at Rolfe with a faint frown. "Why?"

The March Warden took several steps closer to Rolfe, eyeing the tall Rohirran warrior with a gaze that glittered like the ice that clogged the streams of the plain. Rolfe felt the coldness of the gaze sweep over him. He pulled his hand from beneath Renny's restraining grip and pointed at the stern elf before him.

"It has been agreed to."

"Indeed. I know this. But Mairen does not. I find this particularly disturbing, Rolfe. Why would Mairen not know of our agreement?"

Rolfe clenched his jaw, trying to hide his surprise. How had the elf found out? "Mairen knows what she needs to know. I have not told her because she would probably have not agreed to your proposal. We did it for you."

Haldir laughed harshly, with no humor. "For me? You would create more pain for a sister who has dealt with far too much?"

Rolfe eyed the elf haughtily, unconsciously matching Haldir's expression. Renny looked at both and then sighed loudly, stepping in between the two adversaries. "Here now, Haldir. You do not know our sister as we do. Mairen is as stubborn as they come. Rolfe is right when he said it was for you that he and King Eomer left her to her own ideas. You have to agree she probably would have refused?"

Haldir sent a withering glance toward Renny and the Rohan warrior shifted uneasily. "I did not send the proposal to her. I know well her mind, as I believe I do her heart. She has yet to balance them."

Rolfe ran a hand over his eyes. Haldir's words were too much like Gamling's. He knew too well what Mairen refused to see. And he knew he had to overcome his own reservations, for her sake, in regards to Haldir. "I know, Haldir. But trust me that this will not hurt her as you think. We have grown up together, Mairen can handle this. It will make it easier in the end. You will see."

Haldir's brows drew together. "Easier? For you perhaps."

Rolfe took a deep breath. The elf did not understand Mairen as they did. "I can only ask you to trust me."

Haldir's eyes glittered sharply. "I can do no more, for she is not among you. The day of her wedding draws nigh. Will you spend it fighting on the plain?"

Rolfe took a step forward, shaking off Renny's restraining hand again. "Nay. I will be there. I will be the one to give her away, do not doubt it. We ride to Edoras, but found the orcs in our path. Do you not find it curious the creatures plague even the borders of Lórien? Although fewer, they are still far more than acceptable."

Haldir's eyes hardened his face a stony mask as he looked from one brother to the other. "The orcs have found someone to lead them yet again. We have decided this long ago."

Rolfe watched the elf closely. Would Haldir know more, had he sent his own patrols out amid the land for clues? The March warden was fiercely protective of the woodsy realm in which the elves lingered. Renny's question drew him from his thoughts as Haldir's eyes gleamed fiercely. The elf knew something and Rolfe decided that he was not pleased with his knowledge.

"We are concerned as to whom it may be."

Haldir lifted a hand and signaled with a minute flick of his fingers. The elf at his side stepped back into the shadows only to reappear in a moment with two more elves. They came forward and then bowed to Haldir with a touch to their hearts.

"My wardens have just come from your southern borders and a skirmish there two days ago. An orc gave them information that you might find interesting."

Rolfe and Renny glanced at each other in amazement. "And this news?"

Haldir spoke to the elves in their tongue for a moment and then turned to Rolfe. "Your adversary has ridden from the beyond the Eastfold. If we linger too long we shall arrive too late to aid those he intends to harm. Edoras lies in his sight."

Renny gripped his sword hilt tightly. "The Valar take him, he won't get away with this."

Rolfe stepped in front of Haldir gripping the elf's tunic in his hand. "Is it Harad? What more have you learned?" He winced as Haldir's hand closed over his own, forcing him to relinquish his grip.

Haldir eyed Rolfe with a scowl, revealing much more emotion than Rolfe had ever seen him allow. "Aye, it is Harad and Mairen believes him her suitor. His men ride swiftly and it bodes ill for those who think him still a friend. Your king is vulnerable."

Rolfe swore beneath his breath and turned swiftly to his horse. "Eomer has his own reservations about Harad. He will not be ambushed even in his own city. But you are right, we must ride quickly. To Horse!" the Rohirran called loudly. Haldir stepped back, his gaze on the two Rohirrim men.

"I will meet you in Edoras."

Rolfe glanced at Renny and then reached out a hand to Haldir. "We will do better to arrive together. Gather your elves and we will ride to where the rest of your people wait."

Haldir's gaze met Rolfe's for a long second and then he gripped Rolfe's hand, mounting the Rohan stallion quickly behind Rolfe. The other elves followed, riding pillion behind the Rohirrim and the horses charged onto the plain, leaving behind the tell-tale glow of warning.

Mairen rode alongside her brother, basking in the watery sunshine that glimmered through the thin clouds skimming across the sky, pushed overhead by the brisk wind that pulled at her cloak and laid the dry grasses flat in front of her. She gripped Epona tightly with her knees, using her free hand to pull the strands of hair from her face as she gripped her lance with the other.

The sense of danger ahead was an icy chill raising the hair on her neck. She hadn't felt right since waking this morning and agreeing with Willem to ride with him on patrol. They were not far from Edoras, merely sweeping the nearby hills for orcs. The creatures had grown bolder and the scouts had found signs that the wretched things had dared to come within a league of the Rohan city.

Far too close for Eomer's comfort and so Willem and Mairen were among the thirty marshals now riding among the low hills before the palisades of Edoras. So far they had found nothing, no tracks of anything untoward, but Mairen's newly felt elvish sense flashed a warning too strong for her to ignore.

Willem glanced at her beside him, his blue eyes flashing in the sunlight, his grin infectious as he reined his stallion to a stop, signaling the rest of the men to head back. He waited until the last horseman had passed and then leaned over the pommel to study her with a frown.

"What is it?" he asked, while his horse pranced nervously at being left behind.

Mairen scanned the land around them apprehensively, her fingers itching on the lance. "I don't know. Something is not right, but I can't place it."

Willem leaned back in the saddle and looked around. "We've found no traces of Orcs within a league. They can't hide their tracks like the elves."

Mairen stared at the ground. "No, they cannot. I don't think it is the orcs that trouble me, Willem." She turned to stare at the distant city, watching the last of their patrol disappear beneath the gates. "Someone is coming. They will be here soon."

Willem urged his horse forward into a trot, reaching out to pull Epona's bridle forward with him. "I am not used to your new foresight, but that is not to say I don't believe you either." He released the bridle when Mairen pulled back, and glanced over his shoulder. "Rolfe is due back soon. We should head back. Tomorrow is a big day for you."

Mairen bit her lip; his words sent a rush of dismay through her but also something else. Was it only misgiving, despair at her choice to go ahead with the marriage, or something else entirely? She wished she had Celeborn or even Haldir to question; she was not sure just what she felt. But she would not contact either one. Whatever it was, she felt suddenly the need to get back within the city. She kicked Epona and the horse leaped forward, galloping past Willem she flew toward Edoras with desperate intent.

The horses were snorting as Mairen rode through the gate, and Willem, only a few paces behind her ducked unconsciously as he always did through the low door of the palisade. He waved to Eamon who stood on the walkway overhead, his band holding guard duty for the day. Eamon returned the salute with a frown, his eyes following their sister as she made her way ahead of him. Willem had found his brother oddly avoiding both of them of late and Willem wondered suddenly if it had anything to do with Eomer's decree of her marriage. Did his brother know more? Willem cursed softly for not thinking of it sooner.

Rolfe and Renny had conveniently left on patrol, Eamon was taking a sudden liking for guard duty, and all just days after Mairen had told him of Eomer's arrangements for her. Horse entrails, the whole affair gave him a fierce headache. How she could stoop to marry a sop like Harad, whether Eomer wished it or not, had shocked him. He seemed to be the only one who saw the longing so blatant in her eyes, the slow depression that stole her laughter.

Willem urged his stallion up the steep road with another curse, vowing to catch his elusive brother after meeting with Eomer. Willem drew up at the stables, watching Mairen as she sat stiffly on her horse. He was aware that her elvish heritage was becoming stronger everyday, and more than once had spoken of something that would happen only a moment later. Her sense of foresight, or whatever it was made him slightly nervous. She stopped near the stables and slid off Epona and Willem followed behind, drawing his roan into the dimly lit stables to his stall.

"How soon?" he asked as he pulled the saddle from his horse. Mairen brushed Epona her gaze distant as she stroked the mare methodically.

"They will be here soon, Willem, not more than a couple of hours."

Willem nodded slightly, wondering just how he'd breach the news to Eomer without sounding slightly mad. But perhaps Eomer understood more than he just what changes had occurred in the slim Rohan warrior. At any rate, the King needed to be warned, about whatever it was.

Eomer sat back, his dark eyes glinting slightly as Willem bowed before him. Mairen stood behind, her eyes still vaguely distant as if she watched something within her mind. The Rohirran King stared at Mairen curiously as Willem straightened.

"Any tracks?"

"Nay, the plain seems clear." Willem turned to Mairen, unsure of how to continue when she blinked and then stiffened as the doors to the hall flew open and Gamling hurried inside. The captain strode rapidly toward Eomer and Faramir drew near from where he'd been sitting in the shadows with Eowyn. Mairen frowned and stepped aside as Gamling knelt for a moment before the king. The man's dour expression seemed grimmer than usual as he gripped the sword at his hip.

"Rolfe's patrol has been sighted, and not far behind a large band, Anorien from the looks of them."

Eomer's lips tightened and he gestured toward Mairen. "From your expression you knew this as well? You sensed something?"

She frowned, closing her eyes for a moment. "There were no signs of orcs as Willem said, but I also knew someone was approaching, just not who." She opened her eyes to stare hard at the Rohan King. "I should have predicted it to be Harad. I assume he is expected, so why I sense some danger from him seems odd." She closed her eyes suddenly, and Gamling reached out swiftly as she wavered slightly. "I have felt odd all morning, my lord. I don't know why, but peril approaches swiftly."

Eomer lifted a brow, but Mairen missed it, having her eyes still closed as she continued. "There are others who ride near." She rubbed her forehead suddenly and then her eyes flew open. "Elves!"

Eomer's face was a mask of indifference. "And do you feel the elves ride with evil intent?"

"Of course not."

Eomer coughed and Willem watched him closely. The Rohan king seemed to be struggling with his expression but then Eomer seemed to gather himself and smoothed his fingers over his lips. "So then the danger lies indeed with the Anorien approach." He gestured to Gamling. "How far are they?"

Gamling shrugged. "Perhaps an hour's ride, they bring a large force. I do not like it, my lord."

Eomer's lips curved slightly. "Nor do I, Gamling." The Rohan King glanced at Faramir. "I believe Harad and his men are friends of yours?"

Faramir shook his head with a faint grin. "Friends? Aye, we need more friends like those Harad brings. Word is not good from his quarter."

Gamling was frowning, his dislike of the man clearly imprinted on his expression and Willem glanced between the stalwart captain and the king with a curious gaze. More was at work here and Willem didn't know what to make of it. Was not Harad expected?

"I believe Harad thinks to do more than just parley this visit," Eomer declared softly, rising to his feet. "Gamling, ready the men, but no show of arms. I do not want Harad to think we are prepared for him."

Mairen seemed confused as Gamling nodded and turned quickly to depart, her eyes wide. Willem noticed Eowyn had moved from the tables in the shadows to stand beside Faramir and she was biting her lip. Something definitely was going on. Mairen turned toward the King, reaching out to grip his sleeve as he turned.

"My lord, I am confused. Is not Lord Harad supposed to be here tomorrow?"

Eomer patted Mairen's hand, and then pushed back the heavy velvet cloak he wore off his shoulder. "Harad?" The Rohirran marshal grinned faintly. "I did not expect the Anorien, Mairen." Eomer nodded slightly and swept past her toward his personal quarters.

Mairen's hand hung in the air for a minute while her face suddenly flushed with color. She sent a desperate look at Willem. "I don't understand. Tomorrow is my . . ." she took a deep breath and began again. "My wedding, I thought Harad . . ." She whirled toward Faramir who held up his hands, and then stared at Eowyn. They shook their heads and Faramir followed Eomer into his rooms.

"Willem!"

Willem drew closer as Mairen spun toward him. She clenched her fists angrily and Willem, well aware that Mairen's temper was still Rohirran gripped her arms gently.

"Have patience, Mairen. I don't understand either. I thought maybe Eamon knows more, he's been avoiding us for weeks."

Mairen's chin rose several inches and she stalked toward the door muttering under her breath. Elvish curses Willem was sure, as he followed slowly behind.

Eomer entered his chambers and shut the door firmly after Faramir with a frown. "We don't have much time. I believe the end of the attacks will soon be at hand."

Faramir strode to a tall window to peer out."But how do you know it is Harad that controls these attacks. They are widespread over the lands of Rohan and beyond. Even Gondor has fought skirmishes amid its borders."

Eomer opened a cabinet and drew out his leather armor, and began to buckle on the breast plate. "Aragorn and I have debated it often. With the news you have brought as well the information from the outer borders and with Rolfe's report, I am sure I will find much of my problem lies in a line that connects with Anorien."

Faramir frowned, rubbing his hand over his chin. "Anorien has been a minor state of Rohan for years. I know he has harbored great resentment toward your rule. Do you believe it enough to consider destroying his people? I cannot believe him so cruel."

Eomer paused and turned to face Faramir. "We have had dealings with the Anorien for years. He has ever been a burr in Théoden's saddle. I have not liked the man since I was but a lad and my father marshal of the mark. I still harbor a deep sense that he may have had some hand in my father's death. The orc ambush was well orchestrated, as was the one that killed Theodred. I fear we may have ignored the rat in our midst, believing it more the work of Saruman. Perhaps we have been blind."

Eomer drew out his sword belt and continued. "If Harad thinks that his small ploys have not been noticed then he will become careless. As I think he just has." He finished buckling on his sword and turned toward Faramir. "Come, do you not understand? Harad has had designs on the lands of the Mark for years. He also has a malevolent eye on a fair warrior of my realm. He disliked Mairen's interference and I, knowing how he is, knew he would stew upon it until all else flew from his mind."

Faramir turned from the window and strode quickly to Eomer, clutching the king's shoulder. "His last wife it is said died a horrible death, burned in an accidental fire. You would put Mairen in such danger?"

Eomer gripped Faramir's arm. "If anyone could handle the man it is she, but no, I have no intention of allowing her near him. She is but part of the bait I have set, word that the maid marries was sent to all the outer realms. There will be others here to defend her honor, do not doubt it. Haldir will arrive, as he seems to, at the last moment. Mairen shall have more than her share of protectors."

Faramir stepped back as Eomer strode to the door. "But Mairen doesn't know it is Haldir that she is to marry."

Eomer glanced over his shoulder. "No, she didn't, until a few moments ago if she thinks clearly."

Mairen stood in the open doorway of the hall dumbstruck. It couldn't be true. There was no way the Valar could be both so cruel and so mischievous. But of course it was so like them to twist what her heart desired so strongly and tempt her with the knowledge that her nightmare was not what she thought. She turned to stare at the closed door to Eomer's quarters, but then Willem gripped her elbow, drawing her away from the doorway.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

She stopped, pausing at the wide steps that led down to the street, wind fluttering her hair wildly. Her whole body seemed awash with tension, conflicting feelings and senses made her weak with the onslaught. Waves of warning washed over her as she stared out past the walls of the city but the hills hid anyone approaching until the last valley below them. Her stomach was in knots from apprehension, a growing sense of wild hope as well as anger. They had deceived her, all of them. It was almost too much to bear, her mind swam with so many feelings and she closed her eyes, ignoring Willem's repeated questions in an attempt to gain control of her thoughts.

"Mairen, answer me!"

She shuddered, meeting Willem's concerned gaze dazedly. "What, Willem? I'm sorry."

He hissed in a quick breath, his fingers digging into her arms as shouts of warning rose from the lower palisades. The gates were swiftly drawn open and Rolfe and his men rode inside the city, along with the elves she had sensed. She drew aside the hair covering her eyes as they galloped up the hill, scattering men and women alike in their haste, to dismount in front of the steps. Behind her the doors to the great hall opened and Eomer stepped outside.

Galadriel stared at the flickering shadowy surface of the mirror, the water now smooth as the images faded. She held the urn tightly to her chest, indecision- a rare occurrence for the Lady of Light, marking her face. A soft whisper behind her made her turn slowly, aware of the advancing approach of Celeborn as he made his way down the stone stairs into the grotto.

"You have seen something," Celeborn noted as he paused to study her.

Galadriel cast a brief glance at the mirror and then stepped aside to set the silver carafe in its place. "Haldir arrives in Edoras amid a Rohirran cavalry. Danger surrounds them, a battle to come."

Celeborn frowned, his gaze searching Galadriel's. "Within the stronghold of Edoras? It would seem unlikely."

Galadriel turned back to the mirror, nearly brushing the water with her fingertips as if to bring back the image. "Unlikely, but my mind sees that it will be. A rider, thought to be a friend shall enter the gates, but his heart holds deceit and evil. He has been swayed by someone, driven to this by insanity."

Celeborn gripped her waist as she stepped back unsteadily.

"The shadow has not left this land entirely," she continued with a deep breath. "The evil that was Sauron still lies within many minds. I fear this one has been led astray with visions of great power that are not his to grasp."

Celeborn drew her to a low stone bench. "We cannot stop this, it is too late," he said softly.

Galadriel closed her eyes, seeing the vision still within her mind. "Haldir is in the midst of this danger as is Mairen. She is tied to the shadow creature, her ascension into the elvish world has enflamed this man's hatred. He seeks to destroy not only Eomer but the Rohan maid as well. I fear Haldir will not understand the danger to them both."

Celeborn smiled and drew Galadriel's face toward him with gentle fingers on her cheek. "Our March warden is attuned to many things, including the Rohan warrior elf. She will sense the danger, as he will. Do not fear for them."

Galadriel drew closer to Celeborn and rested her head on his shoulder. "I am tired, Celeborn. My mirror shows me less and less and what I see I dare not believe at times. My powers are fading; our world is drawing to a close."

Celeborn wrapped an arm around her tightly. "Haldir will be fine. The valar will protect him."

The crowd of Rohan warriors and villagers gathered rapidly at the base of Meduseld and Rolfe leaped up the steps as Mairen flew down ducking past her brother as he reached for her. She met Haldir at the bottom step, eyes level as she tried to catch her suddenly short breath. The March Warden touched his brow, dipping his head as he held her gaze. He wore a deep gold tunic, perhaps the one he'd worn the night of the festival, and the red cloak from Helm's deep. She stared at it with a sense of foreboding but drew her gaze back to his quickly.

"How dare you arrive in Edoras today? What are you doing here?"

Haldir's glance moved past Mairen to Rolfe. "Why should I not be here?"

Had he known all along that she wasn't marrying Harad? Would he not have told her? The anger that had simmered deep inside flared in her mind and she clenched her hands at her sides, wanting suddenly to erase the impassive expression Haldir had drawn over his face. "I don't want you here."

Haldir's response was only an arched brow, and Mairen lashed out, her hand only inches from his cheek when he caught her wrist, his gaze suddenly glittering with warning. "I have no time to explain or to spar with you." Haldir glared at Rolfe as the Rohan marshal pushed between them.

"Mairen, we've no time for such things. You need to get inside."

Willem met Rolfe at the steps and they spoke quickly as Mairen gaped at her brother. Never had he demanded she hide from battle. She'd always been included as one of his men. She gripped the elvish sword at her hip, clamping her lips tight as he turned back toward her.

"I am not going to hide, Rolfe. How dare you even ask me to go inside?"

Warnings were shouted from the palisade walls and Rolfe gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Harad is coming, Mairen. I want you out of the way."

She blinked as the sense of menace grew overwhelming suddenly and the gathered crowd turned as the gates were opened again and Harad and his men rode inside the city. Armed, with weapons flashing in the sun, the Anorien warriors were a fierce lot of surly men and they rode swiftly through the streets of Edoras as Mairen struggled to focus her thoughts. "They bring evil into this city. It surrounds them," she whispered absently, and then shook her head to clear it.

Rolfe nodded, pushing Mairen toward Haldir. "Get her out of sight. The Anoriens don't like her."

Haldir pulled Mairen into the crowd with a crushing grip on her wrist. She gasped as he pushed aside people, ignoring their protests and finally pulled her near a building as the Anoriens thundered up the hill toward Meduseld.

"You knew," Mairen hissed, twisting her wrist but he would not let go.

Haldir pushed her against the wall, shielding her from view with his body. "Knew what, Mairen?" He braced his hand on the wall behind her, watching over his shoulder distractedly.

She pounded her fist on his chest, earning a soft grunt as he captured her hand. "That I was not to marry Harad!"

"Aye." His eyes flickered to her, emotionless. He drew tightly against her as several of the Rohirran marshals hurried past them. Haldir turned back to her, pressing her against the wall. "Who are you to marry, Mairen?" he murmured as his eyes searched her face.

Mairen closed her eyes. "You know exactly who it is to be." The crowd had grown larger as the warriors rode into the city, and Mairen could see many were armed but held back within the crowd. Several elves moved into view, their cloaks shifting in the wind and they almost seemed to disappear within the people standing around them.

Haldir's breath warmed her cheek, his hair as the wind caught it tickling the sensitive skin on her neck. "I want to hear you say it. Or do you not yet know?"

Her eyes flew open to meet the steely grey eyes of the elf. Haldir bent closer lifting her hand to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. "I did not mean to hurt you," he said, but what exactly he meant she was not sure. Rumil appeared suddenly with his bow in his hand, and Haldir muttered a soft curse as Rumil whispered into his ear. Haldir gripped her chin with a stern glitter in his eyes. "Stay out of sight, Mairen. The Anorien means you harm." The elves whirled, disappearing swiftly into the crowd as the Anoriens halted before the stone steps, banners snapping in the wind. The crowd grew quiet as Harad lifted his hand to speak. Mairen stepped from behind the building, ignoring Haldir's command.

Eomer and Faramir slowly descended the windswept steps of the hall and Eomer paused on the last step to nod a greeting to the Anorien lord. Eomer's dark eyes were narrowed against the bright sunlight, his mouth curved in a faint smile. "It is a surprise to see you again so soon, Lord Harad, and with such a large contingent of men. Is there a problem in Anorien?"

Harad leaned back and flicked his cloak aside around the long sword at his hip and then rested his hand there casually. "Nay, but I fear danger lies in yours, there is word of more orc attacks amid the Eastfold."

Eomer folded his arms over his chest and glanced at Faramir with a shrug. "That is nothing new, Harad. Why does it suddenly concern you that it would bring you in such haste? I do not think your men marshaled so quickly when the call came to join Theoden in aid to Gondor."

Mairen watched the Anorien lift his chin arrogantly. He leaned forward with a deep frown, and Mairen thought, a glint of madness in his eyes. "Have you no concern that your borders lay harried and ill protected. It would be a simple matter to overcome the few that think to withstand any attack."

Eomer dropped his hand to his own sword. "Indeed? You did not seem such a fool at our last meeting. Do you threaten me?"

Harad laughed and the sound echoed off the buildings around them. "Nay, I merely give you notice that you are vulnerable. I have come to forestall another attack upon our borders. As a lord of the realm I hope only to aide you."

Eomer glanced around him. "Why do I find that hard to believe, Harad? You ride into my city with ill intent to my mind."

Harad's glare was cold and Mairen saw Haldir appear near the mounted warrior, with Rumil a few steps behind, his gaze centered on the Anorien. The people of Edoras were grumbling quietly, their low murmurs filling the air, muffling Harad's words and Mairen strained to hear.

"Ill intent?" Harad laughed sardonically. "Indeed, I would be a fool to ride into Edoras with any intent to do harm." Harad glanced around him, and Mairen felt his gaze sweep over her and then draw back.

Mairen stiffened as the man's eyes slowly drifted over her, glittering in the chill air. Panic gripped her, her chest tight with the effort to breathe calmly while her stomach clenched into knots. This was the man she thought she'd been destined to marry and she found the site of him nearly made her wretch.

Harad slid his gaze to Eomer with a sneer, unaware that Haldir had moved closer. The March Warden was standing with arms folded, his cloak snapping around his ankles. His eyes were narrowed, glittering with anger as she looked quickly away, understanding instantly that he was furious she had not obeyed his orders. She shivered as he returned his gaze to Harad, wondering what he would do. She pulled her cloak tighter as Harad stared at her again, his lip now curled with distaste.

"I see you allow the wench to continue as one of your marshals! I cannot see how you can allow one so tainted to live among your people. Is it not obvious to all that she is of elven blood?" Harad whipped his head back to Eomer with a scornful snort. "Do you not see she has seduced you, hiding among you, pretending to be of Rohan blood? She is impure and mocks you even as you stand there as her king."

He shifted in his saddle and sent a scathing glance toward Mairen. Haldir had stiffened perceptibly, his gaze glued to the Anorien, but his arms remained over his chest. Harad leaned back into his saddle with a sudden deranged laugh, waving a hand toward her. "Perhaps you should give her to me. What price has this marriage cost you? I would take her for nothing. She will know who is master in my house; you allow her too many liberties."

Eomer's chin had risen and he stared condescendingly at the man on horseback. "You seem to find much nerve to come into Edoras and insult me and one of my respected warriors. I think you would find taming her quite difficult, were I to even consider giving her to you."

Harad nearly quivered with outrage and his men stiffened in their saddles, hands flying to their swords. Mairen stepped forward incensed by the man's insults, but Rolfe was suddenly there and he pressed her behind him. Harad held up his hand and the men behind him quieted. He jerked his head in her direction. "I should have known," the lord sneered as he turned his horse to gaze at Mairen. "A witch if I ever saw one. She has bewitched you, Eomer. You are a fool to allow her counsel into your hall, she seeks only to demean and destroy you."

Eomer's eyes narrowed dangerously and Mairen could see the Rohirran King held his temper tightly in check. "You have insulted me enough! I will have you leave Edoras and not return. You are no longer welcome here."

Harad laughed sourly. "Indeed, as I expected, you harbor more liking for the damn elves than you do your own kind." He whirled the large stallion and Mairen gasped for as he turned a shadow seemed to fall over him darkening his profile and his black cloak flared out as he turned around drawing out his sword to brandish it over his head. The horse screamed and Mairen stumbled when the crowd pressed back to avoid the rearing stallion. Rolfe rushed forward as did many others spread within the crowd when Harad's men kicked their horses into motion, springing apart as the Rohirrim converged toward them.

Pandemonium broke out as people began to scream and the horses surged through the crowd. The Anorien's black horse snorted and leaped forward toward Eomer. The Rohirran King ducked the blade Harad swung toward his head, but then the huge horse plunged up the stone steps of Meduseld, knocking Eomer backwards into Faramir and both men fell back to avoid Harad's destrier.

Harad urged his horse down the steps and the animal plowed through the crowd. Mairen rushed to the side only to find the man and horse bearing swiftly toward her. She ran down the steep hill toward the stables with Harad following rapidly and veered off, feeling the pounding of the horse far too close behind her and slammed into a nearby door shoving it open to the horrified screams of those hiding inside.

"Run to the great hall, quickly," she cried and whirled as the door crashed to the floor and the huge horse plunged inside, dwarfing the small room. Mairen lurched to the side twisting around the animal, searching for another way to escape. She found nothing and had to evade the horse, its steaming breath only inches from her face as it shattered a table and chair. Harad whipped the horse into a frenzy and sparks shot out of the fire as the table fell into the flames, spilling ash and embers onto the stone floor. Mairen fled to a far wall, bracing herself against the wood as the horse slammed into another chair, flinging it across the room and into her legs. She gasped as the pain rushed up her leg and limped along the wall as Harad spun the horse in a circle, crashing around the room as Mairen scrambled to stay out of its way. She ducked beneath the horse as Harad lashed out at her with his sword and tumbled out the door.

She screamed when she was plucked off her feet and tossed upside down across a saddle and they whirled away just as the destrier lunged back through the door with Harad screaming in rage. Willem kicked his horse toward the top of the hill, scattering villagers and warriors alike. He drew back and jerked Mairen from his lap into a pair of waiting arms. She was set swiftly on her feet and then shaken roughly.

"I told you to stay out of sight!" Haldir thundered and jerked her behind him up the hill as Harad was forced back by several elves and Rohan marshals. Arrows zipped past them, and Mairen twisted her arm, but Haldir's grip as it always was, was of iron and unbreakable.

"Haldir, I don't understand!" she gasped, stumbling behind him.

The elf did not answer but wrenched her aside when Harad crashed through the men fighting him and lurched up the hill. The horse and rider rushed past them only to rear and spin around. Haldir thrust her behind him, shielding her as the horse thundered back toward them. Mairen stumbled and fell backwards to land with a painful gasp on her side. She tried to rise but was pushed back to the ground as Haldir twisted above her ducking to avoid the blade that passed narrowly over their heads. Haldir shot to his feet, forcing the wildly snorting horse and the rider away from her.

"Get out of here, Mairen. This is not your fight." Haldir demanded harshly, pushing her forward toward Meduseld. He spun to the left to catch the Rohirran spear Willem cast toward him. Mairen drew her sword, whirling toward Haldir, but Harad had forced the stallion to turn and as she rushed forward Haldir's gaze swept toward her and Harad urged his horse to circle the elf. She screamed as the destrier kicked out with its rear feet and Haldir, distracted for only a moment was caught full in the chest by the hooves and thrown back against the stone steps of the hall with a groan.

Rumil and Rolfe leaped in front of Haldir and Rumil grabbed the staff Haldir had dropped and with a whirling spin swung it around his head, grasping it with both hands to slam it forcefully against Harad, knocking the man from his horse. Rolfe bent toward Haldir but turned as another Anorien rushed forward, defending the now unconscious elf from harm.

Mairen took a step toward Haldir, horrified as he lay still against the steps, but found her way blocked by Loriel. She staggered back in surprise as the warden shoved her aside, her green eyes flashing angrily.

"Do you not know when to obey commands, Mairen?"

Mairen gasped as both Rolfe and Willem seized her arms, dragging her quickly up the steps and then suddenly she was in Gamling's grasp as he pulled her toward the doors to the hall.

"Stay out of this."

He thrust her inside and slammed the doors shut. Mairen rushed to the door, banging with her fists, but the doors were jammed from the outside and she stepped back with a sob.


	16. It was Time

Author: Fianna

Rating: R

Warnings: Mild Violence

Disclaimer: The characters of Lord of the Rings belong solely to J.R.R. Tolkien. I use them with the greatest respect and for personal enjoyment only.

**Chapter 16**

**It was Time**

The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a resounding thud as she stood frozen in place. She felt numb. The image of Haldir lying still on the stone steps of Meduseld as she was forcefully dragged away haunted her. Thrust into the Great Hall without another word, she'd been unable to go to him. And now she stood staring at the closed door with a growing sense of horror because she had no idea whether he lived or died.

Behind her the hall was deathly quiet, too quiet as Mairen leaned forward to rest her hands on the door, curling her nails into the wood. Between the fear that perhaps the elf was now torn from her forever and the fact that she'd been wrenched aside, thrown into the hall like she had no business fighting, her heart was now constricted into a painful dull throb in her chest.

She rested her forehead against the door, struggling to contain the emotions that choked her, weighing so heavy she could hardly breathe. All of her struggles and trials of the past year, all her convictions meant nothing if he were gone. Haldir had been her rock, unconsciously driving her, tantalizing her, teaching her what it was to be an elf. He had made her remember, and now… now he was lying on the cold steps far away from her, and possibly because she had interfered.

Loriel's words troubled her. She _had _disobeyed Haldir's orders to stay behind. She _had_ forced herself into the midst of the fight. She'd attracted Harad's attention, and perhaps worse, distracted Haldir, but the fight was as much hers as anyone else's. Had she not been promised to Harad? Hadn't she?

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the hot rush of tears away. She was such a fool. How many times had she denied Haldir? How afraid she'd been of the very emotion that had driven her before as Seothlindë? She could hear the muffled shouts from outside, yet she could only stand there, frozen against the door.

How many battles had she fought? Side by side with her brothers despite her gender, fighting and knowing she was welcome as the next man? Only to be shoved aside like a child or a woman with no battle skills at all?

She had believed she could accept a life in Rohan, alone. She had thought she could accept marrying Harad, but she knew she'd been lying to herself. All along she'd denied what her heart felt, denied that she could be anything but what she was, an elf, inside if not in body, and a warrior. Harad would have accepted neither.

She turned around, leaning back against the door, and gazed into the hall dazedly. It was filled with many of the Rohirrim, a few injured warriors, all staring at her in silence. What must they think of her? All this past month, news of her engagement and wedding had had tongues wagging. Had they known just who had asked for her? And what now?

She pushed away from the door, making her way past the curious and sank down on a low bench near the fire. A fire Haldir had saved her from in front of many of those watching her now. And she had repaid his kindness with fury, a slap to his face and his reputation. Yet he had opened the path to her recovery, accepting her role as a marshal of Rohan, a shield maiden, and fighter as much as he was a warden of Lórien.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder and looked up to find Éowyn bending down beside her.

"'Are you injured, hurt?"

She could only shake her head, unwilling to speak; afraid that once she did the tide of emotions would pour out, a flood of fear and despair. She rubbed her temple in an attempt to hide the tears that she knew were just beneath the surface, unwilling to reveal her weakness.

Éowyn grasped her hand, drawing it away from her face, studying her carefully. "What has happened? The battle continues. Where is your sword? Has someone been hurt? Éomer?"

Mairen shook her head again. "Nay, the last I saw of the King he was well. It is Haldir who has been injured." She bit her lip and looked away, struggling to contain her grief. "I do not know if he lives or not."

Éowyn clasped Mairen's hands in hers tightly. "I am sure he is alive, you must keep faith."

"I have lost my faith, Éowyn. I have been a fool to think I could have married Harad."

"Harad?" Éowyn repeated sharply.

Mairen met the shield maiden's startled gaze. "I believed when Éomer first spoke of his proposal that he had meant me to be with Harad." She rubbed her temple as it throbbed painfully. "It seemed so logical, it all fit so well with what had happened."

Éowyn drew closer, wrapping her arm around Mairen's shoulders. "You know it was not Harad! How could you think that?"

Mairen closed her eyes, unsure of why she had believed it and feeling foolish she had not asked. "But when Harad arrived and Éomer said he had not expected the Anorien, leaving me floundering with who else he could have meant … " She took a deep breath, unwilling yet to voice the hope that sat like a lead weight in her stomach.

Éowyn's grip on her hands made Mairen open her eyes. The shield maiden was frowning, her brows drawn together over her eyes. "It was never Harad. Had I realized this was what you thought …" she shuddered faintly. "Éomer has used you as a means to draw Harad to Edoras, as well as the elves. But you were never promised to him, Mairen, even though he's asked for you several times."

The woman sighed faintly. "You were but a pawn in a larger net. Éomer received a request from Harad, yes, but it was not agreed upon. Who do you think he would deliver you to? Who has been your shadow for over the past year, Mairen? It can only be a person who cares very much for you."

Mairen drew back, sliding from beneath the comforting hands of Éowyn with a faint moan of despair. "And who may lie prone outside, his soul fleeing to the Halls of Mandos as we speak."

Éowyn's brows lifted, her eyes searching Mairen's for a long moment. "Does your heart tell you he is gone?"

Mairen shook her head. "I dare not believe it." She wrapped her arms over her chest as if to shield her heart from the thought. "But then I should have seen the battle to come. Rolfe's patrols, Harad's anger, it all should have been apparent that something was brewing. And I missed it all. But to lock me away from Haldir and the fight! Éowyn, I have fought beside them since I was young, wielding sword and spear as well as the youngest marshals. Accepted and welcomed. And now they drag me away. They did not allow me a moment to see if Haldir lived, telling me that this was not my fight."

Éowyn slid back away from her, dropping her hands to her lap. "You must have faith. Do not dwell on the chance that he is gone. You don't know everything. Your answers will become clear to you when the time is right. The only thing you can do now is wait, and decide what you will do when Haldir crosses through that door. For it was he, Mairen, that asked for you, and it is the March Warden of Lothlórien that you accepted to wed.

Rumil bent over Haldir, reaching out with concern when the March Warden opened his eyes with a quiet gasp and sat up. Rumil crouched down beside him, mindless of the chaotic battle raging around them, with great relief.

"I feared you were dead for a moment."

Haldir gripped Rumil's shoulder, using the elf for leverage to stand with a faint groan. "I have too much live for, Rumil, to allow the Valar their games as yet." He smiled faintly if a bit painfully as he stood, accepting the bow Loriel held out to him. Around them the Anorien soldiers were being disarmed and Harad surrounded by a bevy of Rohirrim spears. Haldir took a step forward but Rumil held him back with a hand on his shoulder.

"Éomer will deal with him, Haldir. You may be alive, but you are in no shape to fight the man."

Haldir's eyes narrowed, his lips tight, but he said nothing merely brushed past Rumil silently. Rumil turned to watch him press through the crowd with a slight shake of his head.

"He is stubborn. What injuries do you think he has taken with that kick?" Loriel reflected quietly as she pulled an arrow from her quiver, smoothing her fingers down the lean shaft. She sent a brief frown toward Rumil as he sighed heavily.

"I am sure the effort to lift his sword will be extremely painful, yet he would do it if necessary. What wounds he has taken remain to be seen, he will not reveal them to the Rohirrim." Rumil watched closely as Harad was being pushed backwards, the Rohan warriors making way for Éomer. Haldir had paused on the edge of the crowd, folding his arms over his chest.

"He acts like it was nothing."

"He always does, Loriel." Rumil stood behind Haldir, watching the scene play out before them. Harad was bent warily, sword held out defensively as Éomer stopped in front of him. Faramir made his way to Haldir's side, followed closely by Gamling and Rolfe as Harad whirled frantically, his sword clattering against the spear points that gleamed only a few feet from him.

Rumil gripped the smooth wood of his bow, held close ready at the slightest provocation from the Anorien, as most of the elves did, nearly hidden among the Rohirrim. Loriel touched Rumil's sleeve, bringing his attention to the tall Rohan marshal as Rolfe sent a discreet glance toward Haldir.

His quick look back at Rumil received a faint nod, Rumil's assurance that Haldir was indeed injured and the Rohirran's disproval was clear as he turned back to the scene before them. Harad leered at Éomer, his eyes clearly lit by madness. Harad glared at the king as he spat on the ground at Éomer's feet.

"It was to be mine, all of it mine, promised to me."

Éomer's brows drew together, his hand resting carefully on his hip. "Indeed? I think this shall end now, Harad. Your promises were falsely given; you have been deceived like the rest of us."

Harad stiffened angrily, his movements desperate as he threw aside his sword. "You will rue the day you bartered with the elves for their allegiance." He whirled to face Haldir and found Rolfe and Faramir stepping forward to block his view. He waved them off with a sneer, returning his glare to Éomer. "Mortals are meant to rule this world. I … was meant to rule. But you," his words were nearly slurred as he shook his fist at Éomer. "You and Theoden nearly destroyed us, fighting against the greater powers of Saruman and Mordor! We should have never went to Helm's Deep, nor allowed the elves inside the fortress." He drew his hand across his mouth, stepping back as Éomer scowled, drawing his sword from his hip to tap the point against Harad's chest.

"The elves have aided Rohan at great cost. I hold them in the highest esteem and if such an allegiance can be made, I would be a fool not to accept it. You have tried to destroy our people; it is you who will pay the price for such treason."

Rumil found Éomer's command of his temper admirable, familiar in a way. Haldir also controlled a deeply buried fury toward the Anorien. The man had nearly killed Mairen, for that he would never be forgiven.

Harad laughed, shaking his head and then stepped forward suddenly, knocking aside Éomer's sword. "The maid is not worthy of any bargain," he growled, shifting a disdainful gaze toward Haldir and then back to Éomer.

"You should have never been king; you will be weak like Theoden! He was nearly spent, his destiny to die a wreck of a man, his mind lost to a stronger power. I would have taken the mantle that should never have been yours." He turned around, glaring at the men surrounding him. "He will lead you to your deaths, if not today then soon. The elves should have left long ago; they do not deserve our support. They will leave you all to die while they save themselves, sailing to the west while we struggle here. Fools! Can you not see it?"

Harad spun rapidly toward Éomer, his eyes insanely bright as he leaped forward; gripping a slim dagger he had hidden in his outstretched hand. But before the blade could come near the Rohan King, Harad twisted sideways, clutching an arrow that pierced his chest and drove him backward against the men around him. Harad staggered a few steps, dropping his dagger with a grimace and then sank slowly to his knees, struggling to breathe.

Éomer turned slowly toward Haldir in surprise, but Haldir merely dipped his head and then stepped aside, as did Rumil, to reveal Loriel, still in her stance, bow held tightly in her hand.

"He threatened a king; he deserved to die," she stated decisively, dropping the bow to her side.

The Horse Lord nodded sagely and turned back to Harad, who hade rocked back onto his heels. "Your judgment has been met, Harad. I will hope the hell you find yourself in has no elves." Harad's eyes widened in horror, and then with a gasp he fell forward at the king's feet.

Loriel shouldered her bow, following the two wardens ahead of her up the steps of the Golden Hall shrouded in a gloomy mist as the clouds grew heavy with moisture. The day had grown cold and chill, yet the hall gleamed, the gilded images of god and ancestor burnished even in the damp air. Ahead, the two paused as a throng crowded the heavy wooden doors, thrown open to welcome the victorious protectors of the realm, both elf and human. But the two elves drew back for a moment, and she noted absently that Haldir favored his side with his hand resting not on his sword as was his custom, but his hip.

"They celebrate quickly," Rumil noted with a faint grin, gesturing toward the boisterous crowd at the door.

Haldir smoothed the folds of his cloak at his throat, the scarlet fabric muted by the mist, darkened to a deep red. "The Rohirrim appreciate any reason to raise a mug of ale. But this is well deserved."

Rumil folded his arms over his chest, glancing back at Loriel with a lift of his brow. "Indeed, I fear Haldir will find a few mugs toasted on his behalf." He winked at Loriel, yet the elf's blue eyes were dark with worry as he turned to smile at Haldir.

Loriel allowed a small smile, amused to know that was only too true. "Indeed," she teased. "Will it be because he has survived a kick from a Rohirran warhorse with hardly a bruise or limp to show, or because he is courageous enough to bond to a warrior brave as he, that shall be the question?" She drew closer to Haldir, ignoring the icy gaze that settled on her to rest her hand on his arm.

Haldir's gaze did not flicker, but his left eyebrow rose slightly. "What they do not know will not hurt them, Loriel."

She shrugged indifferently, noting the stiffness of muscle beneath her fingers. "That is true, Haldir. But how long will you be able to control the pain of a few broken ribs? From what I have heard of the Rohirrim, celebrations such as they enjoy last the night."

Haldir glowered, the only description of the look he gave her, and then rubbed his side. "I shall endure, warden, have no fear. There is the matter of Mairen to see to. I will not rest until I have spoken to her." He gathered the edges of his cloak, brushing it back over his shoulder. "The answer as to how I may escape the gathering we face will come later, but for now I see Orophin rides in with Mairen's brother, Renny." He turned, facing the steps they had so recently mounted as shouts sounded from the palisade walls and a crisp group of riders ducked under the low gates of Edoras.

Loriel waited beside Haldir as Éomer met the horsemen, accepting the salute from the stalwart captain with a grin.

"The danger has been averted; the enemy destroyed cleanly," Renny announced as he dismounted, glancing behind him to Orophin. "But I cannot take all the credit, as we decimated most of the orcs by arrow alone. The wretches had no clue they were found."

Orophin slid off his horse, landing silently on the ground with a bow of his head. "The orcs were hidden in a valley just over the rise, awaiting a signal that never came. But not all were destroyed by elvish shafts, but Rohirrim as well." He smiled at Renny, his blue eyes narrowed against the mist that now fell as a light rain. "Your men are fearless, your horses even worse. In the end only but a few of our warriors were injured in the rout."

Éomer slapped Renny soundly on the back smugly. "Well done, as I expected. It is an excellent pairing I say, man and elf?"

Orophin's gaze slid to Haldir as Renny turned to the tall March Warden. "Indeed, an excellent pairing indeed."

Mairen tapped her fingers on the table before her, forcing herself to remain seated, ignoring the jovial laughter of the men that paraded before her. How many had entered the hall, shouting and laughing. How many had not spoken one word whether Haldir lived.

Well, she would not ask. She couldn't. She sank her head into her hands. What about her brothers? Had they survived the battle as well? She knew they were most likely fine. All four seemed to have a tenacious grip on life, too stubborn to give in to fate.

Did she as well? How long would she live, fifty years, seventy, a hundred? She was not sure just what it would be. At any rate, it would be a long time for regret and to forget.

A heavy rattle of armor and the rank odor of sweat and damp leather accosted her nose as someone sat next to her. A familiar chuckle and a mug pressed between her hands made her slowly look up.

"Willem?"

"Pouting, Mairen?"

"I do not pout."

The Rohan warrior grinned, his blue eyes glittering as a drop of rain water clung to his eyelash. He blinked, rubbing the offending eye and then buried his nose inside his mug.

"You pout all the time," was the muffled reply, echoed oddly by the metal cup.

Mairen turned toward Willem, leaning forward to slap the bottom of his mug with her fingers. Ale gushed forward, cascading over the lip of the goblet, dripping down Willem's chin as he lowered it with a growl wiping the ale from his lips. "

"That … was not necessary."

She shrugged, turning back toward the table but Willem reached out, grasping her arm. "What ails you, little sister?"

She gave him an annoyed glance, hoping her fear regarding Haldir was not evident. "You have to ask?"

Willem settled the mug in the crook of his arm, smoothing his fingers over his chin. "I guess my memory is not as sharp as it was, unlike my eyesight."

She rolled her eyes, aware he was in a teasing mood. She stood up, wrenching her arm from his grasp. "You have not even mentioned if Haldir lives… I.."

A strong grip on her elbow had her sitting back down in a rush. "I wondered how long it would take you to ask?"

She glared at him finding Willem's expression only one of amusement. "So he is dead?"

Willem's expression softened and he leaned toward her. "You have a low opinion of me if you think I would allow you to suffer needlessly," he protested.

Mairen snorted rudely. "Is that so? Did you know I believed it was Harad to who I was to be wed?"

Willem's eyes widened. "Harad? Over my dead body."

She stared at him sourly. "It might yet be."

Willem set the mug on the table and faced her. "It would never have been Harad. And you know as well as I, it is not. Éomer said as much in the hall when the elves arrived with Rolfe."

"Then who, Willem?"

He arched a brow. "Who else, Mairen? Stop fooling yourself and accept it. It is what you've wanted all along. Admit it and be done with the whole affair." The Rohirran sighed, sliding back to face the table, tipping the mug in his hands. "Perhaps because we are so close, you and I, Rolfe felt he could not tell me knowing I could not hold back something so important. My trial has been to spend the last few months on patrol, unable to speak with neither you, nor he for more than a few moments."

Mairen had to admit this was true. She'd hardly seen any of her brothers. She looked up as a large hand settled over hers.

"But he lives, as he somehow always manages to do. Kicked by a destrier that would have sent another tumbling head over heels, he instead walks easily, if not a bit stiffly. He has not his usual grace."

Mairen felt a flood of relief wash over her. She took in a wavering breath and felt Willem squeeze her hand. "Thank you," she said thickly, trying hard to control the emotion.

Willem shrugged, burying his nose again in the mug. "Tis not I you should thank, but the Valar. Besides, he comes inside you can see for yourself he lives."

Mairen stiffened and without realizing it, stood up as she had done once before, amidst a multitude of cheerful warriors. She found her gaze drawn to the tall elf before her, draped in scarlet and gold with damp hair clinging to his back as he crossed into the warmth of the hall. His eyes searched until they met hers with a steely determination that made her nearly breathless.

'What will you do, Mairen?' The silent question arose in her mind clearly.

Relief turned into consternation as Haldir turned slightly, holding out the slim elvish blade she had dropped. Mairen reached for her hip and realized in horror that the weapon so often encased there was missing and looked up to find the March Warden still as he was, but a faint lift of a brow sent a clear challenge.

'If you want it, Mairen, you must come and get it.'

Had she heard him or had his taunt been only in her mind? Mairen felt Willem stand up beside her, but she ignored him stepping away from the table as Haldir stood yet in the doorway. Loriel, Rumil and Orophin moved back, leaving him framed by the darkness outside, illuminated by the fires within the hall.

If you want it come and get it.

Did she want the sword, or more importantly, did she want him?

The answer was tangible, a taste of honey on her tongue. She moved around the table to stand a few feet from him.

"Tis mine."

Haldir glanced at the slim blade. "Indeed, made for you long years ago before you were called Mairen."

"That is an old story."

"Told in my lands, but yours?" he asked wryly, glancing at the men around him.

Mairen felt more than saw the men turn around to look. "Does it matter?"

"Do they consider what you have become, the clues that point to where your path lies?"

She stared at the slim blade in his hand, the strong fingers wrapped so easily around it, holding it just out of her reach. "I think they know better than I have at times."

She heard him take a shallow breath. "Indeed? Have you been so blind?"

She kept her eyes on the sword, knowing once she met those silver eyes she would be lost. "I have been more than blind, but no more."

The blade came closer as he drew near. Long fingers brushed her chin forcing her to look up at him. "What do you then see?"

His eyes glittered, challenging her to answer truthfully. "I see you, Haldir. I see that you have come for me as you said once you would. But not in this lifetime, but another before, when I was Seothlindë."

She smiled, grasping his fingers from her chin and pressing them lightly to her lips. "I have forgotten perhaps the night we were together," she began, forcing her words out, bringing up a memory that had lain just inside her thoughts, a niggling whisper that had flickered at the edge of her mind. "The ocean was calm for once, the night bright with a moon so large I thought it might fall from the sky it seemed so heavy. The rays illuminated the water, glittering bands of silver etched in starlight. I prayed that night, to Elbereth, to send me a sign."

Haldir's lips curved slightly, his eyes holding hers, the sword still held between them. "The water was warm, but the maid in my sights cool to me, unsure of what it was she saw for a moment."

Mairen felt the laughter bubble up in her throat, nearly breaking free. "Indeed, I had prayed for a god and what arose before me was but a silver-haired elf instead."

Haldir stepped closer again, the sword nearly pressed between them. "A lesser gift?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching hers.

Mairen closed her eyes against the pull of his gaze, savoring rather the memory of skin glistening with the sheen of sea water, strong arms and chest, hips and below barely hidden by the shadowy waves. Shivering slightly she opened her eyes again. "Nay, you were never that, only an answer to a belief that I belonged with you. But one at that time I was not truly ready for."

"And now?" Haldir's head tilted slightly, and behind him she caught sight of Rolfe and Willem, arms folded as they watched closely.

"And now, the answer lies before me yet again, if I only open my eyes to see."

The sword settled heavily into her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers as she grasped it tightly. "There are reasons why we ask things we do, why we are given commands that perhaps are not to our liking. We cannot question them."

"I know that."

"But there are times when we _must_ question and not answer blindly."

"A good lesson learned perhaps."

"A painful one that was not necessary."

She blinked as the tears suddenly welled behind her eyes. "That is true."

"And your answer?"

She bowed her head to take in a deep breath, and found Eamon a step away, with Renny. Her brothers would accept whatever she decided. "I have accepted- that does not change."

Strong fingers gripped her chin and she was suddenly aware they were the center of attention once again. How many times had she drawn the Rohirrim around her, shocking them, questioning their lives, their ideals, revealing her differences? Haldir forced her to look at him, only his fingers touching her.

"I would have you answer truthfully. Not for Rohan, nor me. But for you."

His fingers she realized in surprise were trembling. Faintly, hardly noticeable but for the thrumming she felt on her skin. "My answer is I would have you, Haldir. If that is what you truly want."

His answer was not so gently given. With a relieved sigh she was dragged against his chest as his lips claimed hers in a fierce kiss, bruising her lips but she found she didn't care. The feel of him brought on a rush of memory, the sensation of his hand on her neck, his smooth skin against hers brought a night forgotten into such a clear image of clarity that she gasped, breaking his kiss but unable to step out of his embrace.

Grey eyes gleamed with a knowing satisfaction, understanding immediately she had remembered. A pair of hands on Haldir's shoulders interrupted the stare, drawing them apart abruptly.

"Now that that is all taken care of without anyone getting hurt, although I had my doubts when you gave her the sword back," Rolfe announced dryly, forcefully shoving himself between them. "What I want to know is just what you meant by that fascinating… little story."

Mairen could see Haldir was not going to get near her again as her brothers had surrounded the March Warden with faces sternly disapproving. "Rolfe, let me explain."

Rolfe looked over his shoulder with a shake of his head. "Nay, I think Haldir will explain."

Mairen settled her hands on her hips, brushing aside the lingering memories that now crowded her mind with a faint blush. "It doesn't matter, Rolfe. It was a long time ago."

"Before you were born," Haldir agreed with a lift of his chin.

Rolfe turned back to the elf. "Don't try to confuse me. It sounds pretty suspicious; Mairen has never been to the sea."

Mairen sighed, resting a hand on Rolfe's arm. "Nay, but when I was Seothlindë I lived near the sea."

Rolfe chewed on his lip, his thoughts clearly confused. "Ah, this second life thing. So you and he already… you…" a deep frown creased his forehead.

She didn't dare tell him it was much more recent. "Nay, we did not do what you are thinking. What kind of girl do you think I am?" She laughed, trying to step around Willem who conveniently moved in her way. "Haldir is not at fault, leave him be."

Rolfe eyed the March Warden and instead of backing off, grasped his cloak. "I don't like this."

Haldir's grip on Rolfe's fingers made the Rohan marshal wince and the cloak was quickly released. "It matters not, the decision was never yours," Haldir stated firmly, brushing the cloak back over his shoulder.

Rolfe glanced at the two elves standing casually a few feet away. "Aren't they going to come to your defense?"

Haldir's lips curved into a wry smile. "They have no need."

"So you will admit that you have never touched my sister intimately." Rolfe folded his arms over his chest, watching closely as Haldir met his gaze calmly.

"And if I cannot?"

Mairen sighed, shaking her head.

Rolfe's eyes narrowed to slits. "Then I shall have to kill you."

Haldir bowed his head slightly. "How would you like to try?"

Mairen threw up her hands. "Stop this. I have accepted Haldir's proposal, my wedding is tomorrow and you will not kill my intended."

Rolfe gripped her arm, drawing her a few steps away. "Mairen it is your honor here that we ..."

"My honor is firmly in tack. I am no blushing maid of fifteen to be paraded as a virgin. Your outrage is unnecessary. It was by my choice alone."

"And Haldir had nothing to do with it?" Rolfe snorted.

"Of course he did, the chase was indeed a merry one. But that is beyond the point. You will not spar with him tonight."

Rolfe suddenly sighed, leaning an arm heavily on her shoulder. "You take all the fun out of it, Mairen."

She shoved off his arm. "Aye, I know your tricks. You'll not play them on Haldir."

The Rohirrim sent an amused glance at her remaining brothers. "No? But I think it only fair for the elf to understand just what he's getting into."

Mairen bit her lip as the four turned toward Haldir.

The room was crowded, those who had fought filling every table, chair and bench, those who had been protected or too ill and injured to fight filled remaining floor space so one could hardly move, let alone breathe in the smoke filled hall.

Haldir leaned back against the large post, surveying the large mug pressed into his hand with distaste. A glance at the group of Rohirrim standing next to the reeking barrel of ale assured him his choice of drink was not going to change anytime soon.

Éomer was leaning next to him, shaking his head. "Rolfe, we have already seen the effects of ale upon the fairer race. Out-drinking that spindly prince of Mirkwood is certainly not going to be a problem for Haldir."

Rolfe shrugged, handing another mug to Willem. "So you think our traditional toasts for the health of the maid in question not deserving, my lord?"

Éomer sent an amused glance toward Haldir with a –I tried to help- expression. "Indeed, no. I believe of anyone these two shall need all the help they can get." He snorted quietly and nodded to Haldir before slipping into the crowd.

Rolfe raised his tankard high. "I agree. Who ever said marrying an elf was going to be easy?"

Haldir lifted one brow, muttering under his breath. "I think it more the Rohirrim end of it."

"So will you drink? Or does the ale turn your tongue."

"Green!" another warrior belched.

"Ah, tis no fun to bait this one," someone else called out. "He's too cool, that one. Better to bait Mairen. She will rise to fight!"

Rolfe sipped his ale thoughtfully. "That is most likely true." He grinned, waving the mug at Haldir. "But I think nay, our March Warden here should join us."

Haldir stared at the frothy liquid briefly and then lifted the mug to clank with Rolfe's. "Here is to having brothers, four too many, I might add." He lifted the tankard to his lips as the men around him laughed, but then eyed Rolfe as the man frowned suddenly.

"I think that was an insult, Haldir."

The March Warden smiled into his mug.

Galadriel brushed her fingers gently across the surface of the water, dispersing the image, watching as the tiny waves dissolved the picture until the surface calmed, leaving only her reflection staring back at her. She drew back, sliding her sleeves from her wrists, clasping her hands as she pondered the mirror's answers to her questions. How much could she trust it? Her magic of late seemed sketchy, answers forthcoming with great difficulty, if they were answers at all.

Had Haldir arrived safely? A nagging sense of doubt hovered in the back of her mind. Had the Rohan accepted the bargain as they had said? Did Haldir return even now with Mairen?

She shook her head. No, the wedding was slated for this evening. A ceremony for the Rohirrim, an appeasement that the woman was not just being carried off to be Haldir's mistress. It was a show of respect for her status and who she was. It mattered little, this ceremony, for the real bonding had already taken place. She smiled faintly. Did either realize it at all?

Haldir had pushed aside the knowledge; his fears and distress the next morning had made him forget. Or did he? Her warden was so often closed, his emotions hidden even from her. Mairen certainly did not remember; the Valar had hidden that from her mind. Too soon, it had happened too soon and the stress of both her reawakening and a bonding might have pushed her too far.

Haldir, she knew, had not intended such a bonding and perhaps was a reason why he did not completely realize that they had done so. The Valar had so often played with Haldir and Mairen; Galadriel wondered if _they_ even realized what paths they had set the two on.

It seemed unnatural that an elf would not know, yet she had seen the signs although few others would have. Only in that brief vulnerable moment when Haldir had carried the unconscious Rohan maid to the healing tent had she seen that glimmer in his eyes, quickly replaced by fear and self loathing. Mairen's reaction to their night together had given rise to his fear that he had forced her into the changes too soon. But Mairen had known, if not all, what might transpire.

The time for both to reawaken, to finally connect was at hand.

That niggling doubt flared in her mind. If - they had arrived safely. More was at work than a simple marriage between two kindred souls. Nay, there was yet a battle to be played out. Haldir had known this as well. There always seemed to be that extra aspect of danger, of a chance for a life to be cut short between them. Was it to make their union that much more important? Or perhaps it was a way to help an elf understand the implications of what a mortal must face when loving an elf. But was she mortal? They did not yet know the answer to that question. She had to believe Mairen's fëa would control such destiny.

A touch on her cheek brought her out of her introspection.

"You worry too much."

"It is all I have of late, Celeborn."

"She is well, I can sense it still."

Galadriel moved away from the mirror, her gown trailing behind her. "The questions only create more questions, with few answers."

Celeborn drew closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to draw her against him. "Then you must leave behind the questions and do what we must do and that is to wait. This is in the hands of the Valar, as it has been since the beginning. We are only bystanders, watching the story unravel before us. What will be, will be?"

"Your strength is unwavering. I wonder where you draw it from?"

Celeborn kissed her cheek. "From you, my love. We are as one, as Haldir and Mairen will be. You must have faith."

"Indeed. Trust in the Valar?" She smiled, drawing her fingers along his jaw. "They brought me to you."

Celeborn pressed his cheek into her hand. "Indeed, my greatest treasure. This will end well, have no doubt."

"Have you felt her at all?"

Celeborn closed his eyes. "Only a sense of her, nothing emotional, merely that she lives as yet. The problems facing the Rohan are nothing. They will deal with it as they do, it is their time."

Galadriel slid her arms over his shoulders, looking deep into the dark blue depths of Celeborn's eyes. "It is their time and ours draws soon to a close."

Celeborn pulled her against him, holding her tightly. "It comes too soon. I am not yet ready to leave, Galadriel."

She drew back, holding onto his arms. "Nay, not just yet. We have time, Celeborn of Doriath. Come, let us make good use of our time." She smiled coyly, taking his hand to pull him toward the stairs rising out of the shadowy grotto.

Celeborn grinned, scooping her up into his arms. "Indeed, we have much time but yet we must use it wisely. Her laughter echoed amid the stones, the mirror shimmering slightly, the water forgotten. But an image appeared, misty in the depths although no one saw it. An image of two who watched unseen.

Loriel sat on the thick mattress of Mairen's bed, studying the array of gowns laid out shaking her head mournfully. "They will not do, Mairen. You will look like an old maid."

Mairen laughed, holding up a dull grey gown. "But I am an old maid, by Rohan standards. Should I not dress the part?"

Loriel pursed her lips, her blue eyes twinkling. "If you wish to dress the part, my lady Mairen, then I shall have need to run back to Lórien for the correct attire."

Mairen tossed the dress on the bed with a faint laugh. "Not if you're thinking of one of your gowns. I would have the whole of Rolfe's patrol standing between me and Haldir. Indeed, I would be lucky to step foot from my room."

Loriel clucked her tongue. "Men! They enjoy the view, yet are unwilling for others to appreciate it." She chuckled suddenly, leaning over her folded knees. "Although I have no doubt you could very well include Haldir in that group as well." She grinned and flipped through a few more layers of fabric and then paused, reaching for a pale gold dress hidden on the bottom.

"What is this? The color suits you."

Mairen turned from the window, she had been easing away from the bed and Loriel was certain the maid's mind was not on choosing a dress. "Oh that? It was my mother's. I had forgotten I still had some of her clothes. I have no idea what it looks like."

Loriel pulled the garment from beneath the others and held it up. The fabric gleamed, heavy and formal, yet the cut was simple with a flared skirt and low neckline. "This does seem promising. It is heavy but the lines are clean."

Mairen gathered the dress, holding it up to her cheek. "I don't remember her wearing it, but then I don't remember her much at all it's been so long." She sighed and turned to the mirror, holding up the dress to her shoulders. "Do you ever forget, Loriel?"

The elleth shook her head, her reflection in the mirror made Mairen look over her shoulder. Loriel was staring at her, yet her eyes were distant. "Forget? Elves never forget, Mairen, as you will find out."

Mairen frowned and then turned back to the mirror. "I don't know if that is good or not." She laughed wryly and then threw the dress at Loriel. "At any rate I think I shall just wear my armor; do you not think it will suit just as well?"

Loriel caught the dress, leaping from the bed gracefully. "No, it does not. You will wear a dress, for Haldir. You are not just a warrior and tonight you will prove it again to him, and to your brothers and all of Rohan."

Haldir sat against the back of the stall, having found the narrow confines of the pen one of the few where he had found some small measure of peace, his horse contentedly munching on the hay he'd given him a few moments earlier. The day was sunny and sunlight streamed from the high windows over the stalls, the rays illuminating the dust mites that drifted in the warmth of the light.

He settled into the straw lying back to rest a hand on his ribs. Two were definitely broken, if not more. The effort to breathe was becoming difficult. He should have allowed Orophin the time to heal him last night, yet he'd been unable to find an escape from the four Rohan brothers so intent on making the night last forever. Where had Mairen gone? He worried, yet he knew she was not far.

Rumil and Orophin had chosen to remain close by, yet not within the narrow group of men. Haldir had matched toast for toast, trading insult for insult, returning many with good-natured jesting. Had they understood the depths he had gone to, allowing the four to taunt him openly, without consequence. It was a rare opportunity that few if any were ever allowed, except perhaps his brothers.

It was necessary, he supposed, if he wished to take Mairen from them. They would never allow her to leave, had they thought she would not find the happiness they wanted her to have.

This gave them in their minds the right to harass him, attempt to get him drunk, and ply him with more questions than Galadriel could imagine in a hundred years. He groaned, pushing the rib most paining him back into place with a gasp. The Valar take him, he grew tired of the closeness, wishing only for the cool breezes of Lórien amid the green tinged leaves. The dull color of the plains, the last clutches of winter here made the elvish lands even more enticing. Mairen would grow to love them as much as she did the bleak harsh lands here.

"I can aid you if you would but ask?" Orophin rested his arms on the stall door, looking over the side to where Haldir was lying amid the hay.

Haldir sat up slowly. "Had I but a moment to do so, I would have. The Rohirrim drink nearly as much as the dwarves." He moved over as Orophin sank down next to him.

"Rumil was concerned. Their ale is a thick brew to swallow. He was afraid after three or four your light constitution would not handle such punishment." He snickered, pushing Haldir back against the wooden partition.

"I suppose you had wine?"

"A fine red, I would say treasured by Éomer. His offer of the drink was taken gladly for the ale turned my nose, had it reached my tongue I am not sure I would have been as stoic as you to actually swallow it."

Haldir laughed painfully. "A lesson one must learn to accept if one is an emissary to the Lady of Light. Had I refused I would have insulted not only Mairen's brothers, but the whole of the Rohirrim cavalry, and then all would have seen to it that I'd not see a hair of Mairen's head in a month of full moons."

"Do these men frighten you so, Haldir?" Orophin grinned, but he placed his hands on Haldir's chest as Haldir closed his eyes.

"You know better than that. I will not face any more obstacles when it comes to Mairen. She will be with me when I leave Edoras, she will be at my side if I have to fight my way out, with her approval or not."

Haldir could feel the tendrils of heat flow from Orophin's fingers, easing his pain. He took a deep breath, gripping the elf's shoulder as the magic flowed deeper, becoming one with his soul, melding into his very bones.

Orophin let go, sitting back on his heels. "The day will end with you tied not only by elven standards but Rohan as well. The journey has been long, but the end is in sight."

Haldir clapped a hand on Orophin's arm. "Indeed. But I shall lie here for a while. Search for her and see that she is well." He settled back into the straw, aware that Orophin was studying him. "What is it?"

"Nothing, Haldir." A hand brushed his forehead and without a chance to complain, Haldir felt the rush of sleep overtake him.

Orophin leaned against the wall of the stables, arms folded as he watched the bustle around him. Repairs were being rapidly made from the damages of yesterday. Men rushed about, carrying everything from logs to food to armor to be cleaned and polished. Children rushed about screaming, reenacting the battle while goats and chickens ambled about, tripping the would-be warriors sprawling into the dirt.

The elf reached down, hauling one unsuccessful warrior up from the icy mud. "The fiercest orcs find odd ways to gain advantage. But a true warrior will always put the thought of embarrassment aside and jump right back into battle."

The young man brushed at the mud with a grin. "Dang orcs! Never saw him coming." He kicked at the goat now trying to chew on his leather armor.

Orophin frowned, crouching to become level with the boy. "You should always try to be aware, young master. Orcs are devious; they play tricks and will rarely come at you from the open. It is to your advantage to scan the road before you, anticipating where the enemy might be hidden. And if accosted, as the best of us can be, then you must be strong and fall back on your skills. And have faith that the day will end well."

The young man bowed and then stepped back, shoving aside the goat. "Like Haldir did, when Mairen saved him?" The warrior-boy shook his head with a snort. "Saved by a girl."

The elf, far quicker than the boy could imagine, caught him by the shoulder as the boy turned away. "A girl?" Orophin argued. "Not a girl, but a warrior as much as any man among you. Had she not been aware, as I have explained, then yes, my brother Haldir would now be among those in the Halls of Mandos. I for one am thankful the girl had the ears of a fox and the eyes of an eagle. Had she not I would have been dealt a great loss."

The boy frowned, kicking at the dirt. "But they are still girls. They should be cleaning, doing women's work."

Orophin crouched again in front of the boy. "They should be doing what the gods wish them to do. What skills have you, young master? Should you be the stable boy, cleaning after the animals? Nay, I see that you wish to ride the plains, fighting those that harrow your lands. Would you wish another choice to be pressed upon you?"

The boy shook his head. "So if the girls can fight we should let them?"

Orophin smiled. "If that is what they wish to do. Not many find that role appealing."

The boy sighed, turning as a few friends called out to him. "I must go."

"Do not let me keep you then."

The boy ran a few steps and then stopped. "Will she follow Haldir then?"

Orophin rose gracefully to his feet. "Yes, she chose that path a long time ago, only did not realize it."

The boy scuffed his boot in the mud. "I think she should have gone a long time ago. She played with me and my friends before…" he squinted into the sun for a moment. "Before she became sick. I guess I really don't mind girls being warriors. Mairen taught us a lot."

Orophin smiled, waving as the boy shrugged and turned back to his friends. "Indeed, Mairen has taught us all to follow our dreams."

Mairen sank against the door, alone finally, dressed in her mother's gown yet shivering with anticipation. Shivering as the thoughts of what would happen, of what had happened, and most of all, shivering with the memory of her night with Haldir.

How she could have forgotten such a night? And how easily the memory was revealed by the very elf who had given her both? Just as he had triggered her final recovery, his kiss had awakened the shadowy past, drawn aside the black curtain of forgetfulness in an instant.

How she faced the remaining day and night with those thoughts churning in her mind made her laugh. How many times had questions, so innocently given been rewarded with an unseemly answer? How many odd looks had she received as her mind wandered, not with fearful anticipation as some suspected of the ceremony to come, but more with the heat inducing memories of a night with an elf.

She rubbed her cheeks, aware that they even now were flushed with a blush as she sank down to her feet. Soon she would be alone again with Haldir, caught in his net, ensnared once more by those silver eyes. She sighed aware that her nerves even now tingled with anticipation, her fingers itching to feel the softness of his skin.

His skin was so deceptively soft. Gilded with moonlight, gleaming under a starlit sky, it was velvet to the touch, yet beneath lay muscles toned by years of sword play and fighting. Yet tenderly had he caressed her, his fingers barely brushing her skin, eliciting a reaction she could not control, even now.

How could she walk through a ceremony of such reverence, with the image of Haldir, hair glistening in the starlight, eyes smoldering with a heat that flared as she returned his touch. The images would become tantalizing, the memories sweeping her away, making her forget just where she was. She would be frozen, lost in her thoughts. Would he know? Of course, Haldir had understood the instant she remembered. His smile had said as much.

She sighed faintly, plucking at her dress. Her brothers had easily kept them apart. It had been a Rohirran tradition that the eve of a wedding be spent in drink. She was sure Haldir handled the evening with his usual aplomb. The elf would have most likely lasted long past all four of her brothers. Had they enjoyed their games? Had he suffered their intentions stoically as she believed he would? There had been no news of any fighting. That in itself was a rarity for the Rohirrim on such a night.

But it did not matter, for the day was past. The more important ceremony loomed only an hour away.

A journey of two lifetimes was coming to an end.

Mairen rose to her feet, brushing off her skirt, as well as pushing aside the tempting memory of Haldir. He would be before her in the flesh, not just a memory to hold dear. It was time to meet her destiny head on, to accept the gifts given her by the Valar.

A gift she was not going to refuse again.

It was time.


	17. End of the Journey

**Chapter 17**

**The End of a Journey**

Haldir clipped the golden leaf shaped clasp over his cloak, sliding the heavy red fabric over his shoulder. Rested, if not by choice, he felt clear headed yet also filled with a rare sense of impatience. His time in the mortal's city had not been long, in the elvish sense of time, yet his journey to this place seemed so. Mairen was his, accepted by her own words, yet he would not feel comfortable until they were once again back in Lórien.

But his impatience to be gone from these lands was not important, only Mairen mattered. A Mairen of healed soul and heart, a Mairen that chose her fate based upon her own feelings and not on responsibility. He could not ask for more.

And he'd been ready to accept the consequence if her heart had truly desired a life in Rohan. Blessed Valar she had not, and her face after his kiss, in that brief moment they had shared, told him far more than she realized. Brought his own forgotten memory rushing to the surface of his consciousness, reminding him with a faint rueful feeling of disquiet that Mairen was not the only one the Valar had played games with. How he could have put aside that knowledge that she was already his, that already in another place and time, they had bound not only their hearts, but their souls?

Had they even known?

He closed his eyes, resting a hand on the door frame. No. There was no way he would have allowed that to happen, had he any choice. Too much was at stake, he'd only wished to show her what she could have, what choices were hers to make.

Indeed, choices that he thought he had made had truly been the Valar's.

He sighed quietly, glancing over his shoulder for the shadows that followed him so closely. Did the Valar tire of the game yet? Had the bonding, such as it was, been done so that they could not choose otherwise? It seemed so, yet he doubted the answers were so simple, or emotional.

Did Mairen realize that they were one, that this ceremony was only that, a ceremony? He brushed a hand over his eyes. It would be a long ritual of mortal expectations. King Éomer's description of the whole process had nearly made him shudder with frustration. It would be a very long trial, with more drinking of all things, and yet more hinted than that. He was told he would know what to do. Haldir shook his head. The Rohirrim seemed to thrive on ceremony and drinking. He sighed, opening the door. Truly, Lórien seemed like a paradise.

Mairen combed her hair, allowing the light brown tendrils to fall over one shoulder nearly to her waist, the length far longer than she had ever allowed. Was it her elvish soul that preened in the mirror, admiring the glossy strands, or was it her Rohirran side that chose to be lax in her normally stringent decisions regarding her hair. Long hair, too long, was a disadvantage in battle. A handle for the enemy to grasp if braided behind her, a detriment when it swung in her eyes. Yet the elves all wore their hair long, male and female. And even the Rohirrim men did so, sometimes hanging to the middle of their back. Why did it concern her so much suddenly?

She laughed at her image in the mirror. It was a silly thought, but one that kept the more tantalizing ones at bay. Too quickly her thoughts turned to Haldir, wondering if he liked her hair, wondering what it would be like to have his fingers slide through the heavy length, unbraiding it, smoothing it . . ." She stiffened suddenly, dropping the comb with trembling fingers as the door flew open, and bent quickly for the comb with an oath, hiding her flushed face in her knees.

Willem marched inside, followed closely by Renny, Eamon and Rolfe, who shut the door firmly on the elf that was leaning against the door frame. Rumil and Orophin had been stationed at her door all afternoon, grinning as she peeked at them, but saying nothing. Were they her guards or guardians? Did Haldir worry that she would run?

She wouldn't blame him if he did.

"The time is almost near, Mairen," Willem announced jovially, ruffling her hair as she sat up.

Rolfe leaned on the fireplace mantel facing the flames, kicking the bits of wood scattered in front of the hearth. "You are certain this is what you want?" He asked grimly, glancing at her with eyes narrowed and lips tight. Still Rolfe struggled with this marriage. She wondered if he would ever truly accept it.

She stared into the mirror, watching her two remaining brothers closely as they sat down at the small table beneath the window. Eamon, in his usual silence, merely lifted an eyebrow at Rolfe's remark, but Renny grinned and slid his long legs out from his chair.

"Of course she's sure. We've asked her enough. The time to dwell on it is past."

Mairen set the brush down on her lap, hoping her blush had faded. "I am sure." She glanced around the room, allowing her gaze to fall on each brother. "I will miss you."

Willem sat on the edge of the table beside her and leaned over to grasp her chin gently. "As we will miss you. Who will I ride with now? After being blind I still cannot get the smell of Renny's armpits from my nose. Rolfe needs him anyways. Eamon needs no one, except his steed. She favors him more than any lass in Edoras."

Mairen smiled warmly and pushed away from the table. "You will ride with Gamling, for I have heard it from Éowyn," she confided with a wink. She turned toward the brothers behind her. "As for Rolfe, Renny and Eamon, you will become closer once I am gone." She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "I have not allowed the thoughts of leaving Rohan to intrude on my mind, fearing I would not be able to leave." She plucked at the threads on her dress absently as she sat on the edge of her bed.

Rolfe moved away from the fire and sat beside her carefully, taking her hand into his larger one. "This is mother's dress," Rolfe pointed out softly, rubbing the fabric in his fingers. Mairen glanced down at the heavy gown and then back at Rolfe with a wistful smile.

"I know."

Renny sat next to her as well. "I believe she wore it when she wed our father."

Mairen drew back with a start. "It was her wedding dress?"

Eamon leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He glanced at the others and then reached under his tunic to bring out a small locket held with a simple chain around his neck. Mairen stared at it curiously; Eamon had never shown her this before. He pulled off the chain and handed it to Mairen.

"A likeness painted ironically, by an elf, for our father," he explained as Mairen caressed the small silver ornament. "The painting was done shortly after they were married, as a token of his love for her."

Mairen slowly opened the locket, a delicate oval with a tiny horse's head on the front. It opened with a faint click, revealing an impossibly small painting of a woman she hardly recognized, yet knew instantly was her mother.

The dress was indeed the one she wore, her mother's hair braided over her left shoulder, the same light brown as Mairen's. But there the resemblance ended, for the Rohan woman had bright blue eyes that seemed to dance as Mairen studied her. Love and happiness filled her gaze and Mairen shut the locket with a snap, holding it close to her chest.

"Mairen? I did not mean to upset you." Eamon knelt before her to take her hands, the locket held tightly between them.

"Nay, I am not upset, Eamon. She just looks so happy."

Renny smiled, and leaned an arm around Eamon's shoulders. "She was always joyful, even when father was gone on patrol."

Rolfe nodded quietly. "As you once were, Mairen."

Willem was frowning, his hands behind his back. "Aye that seems like such a long time ago."

Mairen stared at the four men. "So you think I have been melancholy for so long that I can't find joy in this day?"

Rolfe coughed and gave her a rueful smile. "You look like you are going to your funeral, Mairen."

Renny stood up, pushing Rolfe aside. "Nay, I fear your heart does not seem to be in this at all."

Mairen frowned and then returned the locket to Eamon. "That is not true. This is what I have lived for, what I wanted for so long. Yet I can hardly believe the day is here." She rubbed her forehead absentmindedly and then rose to stand next the fireplace and then turned to face her brothers. "I would not change my decision if the Valar stood before me; nay I feel it is what they have guided me toward for both of my lifetimes. If I seem melancholy it is only that once more my life changes and I know not what it shall bring."

Rolfe rose, crossing the room to wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. "Forget your fears of the future and accept what this day brings with your usual fervor. That is all we ask, Mairen." He kissed her forehead and then held her away from him. "There is joy to be had this day, for you especially and Haldir. And for us, it is well to see you whole. For truly, Mairen, it is only when the elf is near to you that the glow returns to your cheeks and your eyes sparkle as they once did. I cannot fight against love. I am only jealous that you have found it in one so far from us." He sighed and then grinned mischievously. "Be that as it may, Éomer has explained in detail your ceremony and if I am not mistaken, Haldir will find his patience once again tried and tested."

Rumil followed the tall elf before him, admiring the width of his shoulders, the strength apparent beneath the red cloak, the silver-blond hair that hung to the middle of Haldir's back. The March Warden leaped up the steps toward the heavy doors of Meduseld, gaze trained ahead, yet Rumil glanced at the steps briefly, aware of how close Haldir had come again to death. But the Valar had once again protected him. He thanked them silently, and then lengthened his stride to catch up with the warden as he passed through the doors into the hall. The day was fading; already the sun had dropped near the horizon casting a few watery rays through the thin patches of clouds, illuminating the grey darkness with striking brilliance.

It was a good day to leave, he decided, eyeing the clouds. Winter had not yet given way to spring and a late season storm might delay them if they did not conclude the journey soon. He walked into the heady warmth of the hall, blinded slightly by the glare of the many torches in the dusky interior, to find it empty save for King Éomer and his wife Lothiriel, Éowyn and Faramir alongside on a low bench and Gamling in his usual manner standing at Éomer's left shoulder. They were waiting patiently and Haldir was already halfway down the hall, head high, shoulders back as their eyes followed him carefully.

It would be an unusual day for the Rohirrim as well as for the elves. Rumil only hoped that the ceremony was not what Haldir had described dolefully, glancing behind him at the grey skies outside the door.

Haldir bent slightly as he greeted Éomer, and then lifted Lothiriel's hand to kiss it gently as she smiled in welcome. Éowyn nodded and Faramir sent him an amused glance. Did the Ithilien lord understand the emotions that roiled just beneath the surface of Haldir's seeming calm demeanor? For that matter, Éomer might sense the underlying disquiet he felt. If they did they gave no further sign and Haldir drew back, turning as the doors opened behind them.

A swift glance revealed Mairen, escorted by two brothers and the remaining two only a step behind, but it was Mairen that made his breath catch in his throat. She walked slowly toward him, dressed in a heavy golden gown. But he hardly noticed the garment she wore, rather her expression of nervous anticipation matched his own chaotic emotions and he looked away, striving for the control he usually maintained and finding it evaded him elusively. He inhaled slowly, and lifted his eyes to meet hers, and then stepped forward as Rolfe drew her closer.

"She is yours now, Haldir," Rolfe declared quietly as he placed Mairen's hand into his. "If rumor comes that she is unhappy or unprotected, you will find us four on your doorstep."

Haldir took Mairen's chilled fingers in his, lifting them for a moment to his lips as she looked at him wordlessly. "Indeed, I would expect no less from you. Have no fear that she will be unhappy. But she is yet a warrior and will not be coddled. I expect she will do what she must as we all do."

Rolfe lifted an eyebrow at Mairen as she exhaled in a loud huff, and then stepped back as she swept her arms around Haldir with a laugh. Haldir held her close to him, savoring the feel of her body against his but then gently set her back a step.

"Your King awaits you, Mairen."

She nodded and he drew her beside him to face Éomer. The Rohan Lord smiled and then pulled a thin parchment from within his sleeve. He held it up so that Haldir could see it and then suddenly ripped the parchment in two.

Mairen gasped as Éomer grinned. "Your proposal to the King of Rohan is destroyed. I will not be said to force any of my friends, nor subjects into a marriage that is not of their choosing. You have the lass before you, and it will be your decisions this day that you make, not mine." Éomer glanced behind him at his wife. "I can only hope you find the happiness you seek." He met Haldir's gaze with a wink and then bowed slightly with hands held wide. 'What say you?"

Haldir sent Mairen a glance and then bowed to the Rohirrim Horse Lord. "My choice was made long ago. It does not change."

Mairen's hand was trembling and she glanced down at her feet. "My answer is the same yet…"

Haldir stiffened and sent a wary look at the woman at his side. What more could she do to delay the proceedings? He frowned as she took a deep breath.

"I wish only that the day be done. I have no patience for the long speeches you and my brothers would choose to spout and indeed, were the choice mine I would have the elf carry me off without another word spoken." She grinned, unaware of Haldir's amusement and stepped forward to point boldly at her king. "Do you not admit you and my brother's have made plans to do such?" Éomer's eyes twinkled as he met Haldir's gaze.

Haldir turned and then before Éomer could answer grasped Mairen's shoulders. "You agree to our match?"

Mairen nodded. "Of course, Haldir… I …" she gasped as he bent near her, swinging his hands down to her hips to lift her quickly over his shoulder. She screeched in surprise, as he turned back to Éomer.

"By your leave, my lord. I believe that concludes this ceremony." Haldir touched his forehead in a quick salute, ignoring Mairen's frantic beating on his back and strode rapidly from the hall followed by the raucous laughter of the Rohirran men.

Outside he set her down on her feet, while Rumil and Orophin leapt down the steps for the horses. Mairen settled her hands on her hips but then grinned.

"That's not going to work."

Haldir glanced over his shoulder. So far no one had followed. "No?"

Mairen poked a finger at his chest and then twisted his tunic around them, stepping against him. "My brothers will not allow me to go without a binding…"

Haldir slid his hands around her face. "We have been bound, for a long time. I think your brothers know this."

He sighed when the door to the Golden Hall flew open, and four men shoved their way outside against what seemed to be half the Rohirrim army holding them back. Haldir turned back to Mairen to find her laughing.

"I told you so."

Haldir grinned back, and tossed her over his shoulder as Orophin and Rumil cantered up the hill to the hall. "Indeed, but I also recall you stating you would like it if I threw you over my shoulder. . ."

Mairen gasped as she landed in the saddle but Haldir gave her no time to argue and leaped up behind her as the Rohirrim rushed to the top of the steps.

"Unhand her now, Haldir. She needs a binding agreement, or you'll not have her!" Rolfe complained, holding out a hand desperately.

Haldir grinned, turning his horse so that he could meet the man's gaze. "We have spoken the vows we will. If you do not choose to accept this then you may attend an elvish version of your wedding feast in a month. Until then, she is mine as she has been for two lifetimes." He kicked the horse into a canter as Rolfe cursed, but was held back by his brothers from following.

Mairen shook her head, ducking as they flew past the gates into the wide plain below the city. But she did not complain, but held onto his arms tightly. The road to Lórien would take several days, but Haldir was certain the Rohirrim would not follow.

Lórien seemed like an old friend, welcoming Mairen back into her midst with a soothing air of warmth that settled over her as soon as she was underneath the trees. Haldir had dismounted and now led the horse on foot, leaving his brothers behind at the border with friends.

"Do you not fear some strange creature will accost us, endangering me?" Mairen asked after the two brothers had waved them off.

"I think the creatures fear the wild woman astride my horse far worse. It is I who should be fearful I think."

Mairen laughed as Haldir sent her a grin over his shoulder. "You told my brothers a month. Why do I not believe it will be that long?"

Haldir stopped and moved to stand at her knee. His grey eyes were warm as he looked up at her. "Because it is not necessary. You know as well as I."

She bent toward him to caress his cheek with her fingers. "Do I? Perhaps I don't remember?"

Haldir's eyes glittered in a way she'd almost forgotten, a heady sense of purpose that made her suddenly very warm.

"I shall have to remind you. It is but a simple act, but one that takes quite a long time."

"How long?"

A wicked smile curved his lips. "A very long time."

Mairen shivered. "And just what does this act entail, my handsome elf?"

Haldir frowned suddenly, and gripped her fingers. "You called me that once, long ago."

Mairen drew her fingers free to sit up, blinking. "I did, but more than once I think. I feared you were dead, such a handsome creature to die so horribly."

"But you saved me."

"And you saved me from worse."

"And I fear I will again." Haldir traced the line of her sword tucked underneath her saddle girth. "But I will do so happily if it means that you are by my side."

Mairen caught her lip between her teeth, blinking back a sudden rush of tears. "That you would allow me to be what I am tells me much, Haldir."

Haldir reached up and pulled her free of the saddle, tucking her easily into the curve of his arms. A few steps and the forest swallowed her horse, closing around them like the guardians they were.

"Your trees seem alive."

"They are alive. They protect us as we protect them."

"Would you leave this land, Haldir?" Mairen curled her arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his arms around her for once, allowing herself to bask in his strength.

"Perhaps one day. But not without you."

She snuggled into his neck, smiling as he strode effortlessly through the woods. "Where are we going?"

"Are you worried?"

"No, but perhaps the horse will be worried?"

Haldir laughed softly. "The horse is already headed to pasture, he knows the way. Just as I do."

Mairen laughed too. "You are going to put me out to pasture? I know I am old, my dear elf, but not that old!"

Haldir ducked beneath a low hanging vine and then straightened without answering her. Mairen turned to find indeed spread before them was a wide clearing, a meadow filled with a cacophony of color that nearly blinded her. Sunlight glinted off the surface of a tiny stream and beside that a small building nestled against the far edge of the meadow, nearly hidden in the shadows of the trees behind it.

"This is nice, Haldir. Are we going to grow old here?"

"I doubt that, Mairen. You must remember you will not age as your brothers do. It is something you must deal with." He set her gently on her feet, pulling her across the meadow.

She pushed away the sadness that his comment brought, refusing to dwell on that now. "I know. But truly, what is this?"

"A talan, it was built by those who lived in these woods long ago. I sense the place was well loved and a good place to love well in." Haldir smiled mischievously as he ducked inside, drawing her behind him.

"Perhaps we are invading the spirit of the place?" she argued but knew instantly they were not. The talan was small, with large windows overlooking the meadow. A wide platform was placed across one far wall, heaped with blankets and pillows. A fire was burning in the small fireplace and what smelled like soup was simmering on the spit.

Haldir kissed her fingers and then shut the door softly. "I don't think so. Do you like it?"

She tasted the soup with her finger and then turned to face Haldir with a sly smile. "It's very good. But are you really that hungry?"

Haldir answered by tossing aside his cloak. It fell against a small bench, then pooled on the floor. Mairen followed suit and tossed hers on the floor near the bed. A moment of laughter and then they fell onto the cushions behind her. Haldir curled against her side, pressing her among the pillows to trace the shape of her lips with his fingers.

"I have waited far too long for this."

Mairen pulled his fingers to her lips to kiss them. "So have I."

A long kiss made her sigh, shielded by his long hair as he leaned over her. "How long can we stay here? Does anyone know?"

Haldir smiled. "Only three," he frowned glancing at the soup, "maybe four. But we will not be disturbed. The Lady knows where we are."

Mairen sighed happily. "Except your brothers know."

Haldir laughed then. "Nay, my love, they do not. We have as long as you would like."

Mairen grinned. "You said it would take a long time."

Haldir kissed her. "Aye, a very long time."

The Lórien ceremony was simple, if a bit overshadowed by the Rohirrim contingent that insisted on adding their voice to the proceedings. Celeborn looked up once again, he'd lost count of how many times the four brothers had interrupted, with an aggrieved sigh.

"I fear the rest is rather pointless, Haldir."

Mairen's face was an expressionless mask, marred only by the quiver of her lips and the twinkle that gleamed in her eyes. Haldir shook his head faintly with a glance over his shoulder. "Indeed, my Lord. It would seem the – family- deems it more worthwhile to offer toasts rather than endure much more…"

"I think you call it poetry!" Willem said with a slight slur as he threw an arm around Haldir's shoulders. "We both know, er…" he glanced apologetically at Mairen. "We all three know that this is nothing more than an attempt," he burped loudly to Haldir's rolled eyes and continued unfazed, "to make us feel comfortable with you and Mairen being together… emm… officially." He grinned, sloshing the wine from the crystal goblet in his hand over Mairen's arm.

Celeborn wondered who had offered the wine to the Rohirrim. One of his best vintages and one the men did not seem to appreciate but rather swilled like ale. He shuddered at the thought of such a precious commodity being tossed back so casually. This was a momentous occasion that was being marred . . . he paused and glanced at Mairen. Changing his thought, he smiled genially. It was marked by just that, the Rohirrim, still very much a part of Haldir's new wife. He chuckled quietly. Haldir would have to get used to the four marshals, six brothers now to endure.

Haldir caught his eye and nodded slightly, as if in agreement. Celeborn cleared his throat with an amused glance at Galadriel who was now surrounded by two of Mairen's brothers. He'd have to think twice again before allowing them all into Lórien; they'd certainly created a furor upon their arrival.

He didn't dare mention that Haldir and Mairen had just only arrived in the city days ago. What occurred in the days in between leaving Rohan and arriving in Caras Galadhon was theirs alone to know.

"My lord?" Renny bowed low before Celeborn. "A word with you if I might?"

Haldir bowed and pulled Mairen away, as she glanced curiously at her brother.

"Of course, it would be a pleasure," Celeborn said affably.

Renny smiled and then frowned, and then once again smiled if painfully. "This is difficult for us, I hope you understand this?"

Celeborn nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, you are losing a sister but gaining another brother. But she will always be here if you wish to see her."

Renny glanced over his shoulder warily. "True. But I wish to make something clear, and hope that Haldir understands."

Celeborn lifted a brow but remained silent as Renny gripped the sword at his hip. "Mairen is a warrior. She's never been girlish. She'd not be happy sitting back in your tree houses for long. I hope that Haldir understands this?"

Celeborn smoothed the smile from his lips with his fingers. "Indeed, I am certain that Haldir knows this, my lord. She has made that abundantly clear."

Renny scratched his head and leaned forward. "She's a might of a handful when she's angry."

"We have seen this, I assure you."

"She can be a bit high handed, bossy, irritating…" Renny seemed about to lapse into a long description but Celeborn interrupted with a hand on his arm.

"We are well aware of her attributes, Haldir especially. It is a bit late to speak of them now."

Renny grinned. "Just making sure. We'll take her back if he decides she's too much."

A hand on Renny's shoulder made the man flinch. "Do not worry, brother. The day my brother tires of Mairen will be the day the world ends." Rumil grinned at Renny. "But the day wanes and there is yet wine to be consumed. Come join us!" He led the stocky man away to Celeborn's relief. And he knew just who to confront regarding the wine.

Mairen sat below the tree, cradled against Haldir's chest watching the sun set through the trees. The night air was cool and the breeze fluttered a strand of Haldir's hair over her cheek. She caught the wisp of silver and kissed it. "I think I am finally at peace."

Haldir pressed her closer to him, wrapping his arms across her chest. "For how long?"

She turned to look up into his face, a face she'd dreamed of for so long. "Forever, I think. I feel like I'm finally… home."

Haldir closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against her head. She could feel him breathing, a deep series of breaths that told her he was struggling to control some deep emotion. She traced her fingers over his arm, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"I did not think this day would come. The Valar's games are not often what we think them to be."

"I think they worked very hard to bring us together."

Haldir laughed ruefully. "I do not imagine that we were an easy game to play."

_Indeed a voice echoed Haldir's sentiment as the two Vala stood amid the shadows of the trees._

_"They are finally one, in both mind and spirit."_

_Vana nodded, watching the two lovers. "Indeed, as they were meant to be. But truly the game was long yet enjoyable."_

_The Vala next to her gave her a worried look. "I don't like the sound of that."_

_Vana smiled wickedly. "I don't think Rumil has found a mate yet."_

_The Vala laughed together fading into the shadows._

Mairen looked around, breaking the Haldir's kiss. "Did you hear someone laughing?"

Haldir pulled her closer, brushing his lips over hers. "Let them laugh." He pushed her gently onto her back to stretch out beside her. "They have had their way. I intend to have mine."

Mairen slid her arms around his neck. "And mine," she agreed.

The end


End file.
